


A Modicum of Peripeteia

by WillPJackson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scisaac - Freeform, Sexual Content, canon/not canon, filling in the blanks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:04:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillPJackson/pseuds/WillPJackson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac tries his best, but he just can't seem to escape his feelings for one Scott McCall. In a moment of weakness, Isaac makes a move that changes everything. Can their friendship survive the carnage happening around them?</p><p>Scisaac is a ship that sails itself. I'm here to fill in the blanks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (Prologue) Isaac tries to be there for Scott

**Author's Note:**

> Much of this work will tie directly into what we see on screen, so it might be helpful to re-watch episodes of seasons 3A and season 2. I intend to touch on most of the events through seasons 3A and to be faithful to what happens canonically. Mostly.

“ _You_ haven’t told him everything yet, have you?”

Isaac still didn’t know what to make of Derek’s recently resurrected uncle. He and Derek seemed to share a knowing glance. “What do you mean?” Isaac asked.

“Why do you think Derek was in such a hurry to build his pack? So _eager_ to strengthen his power and his number? When there’s a new alpha, people take notice.”

“People like who?” Isaac turned to step closer to the strange new symbol on the derelict manor. “What is this? What does this mean?”

“It’s their symbol,” Derek said, “and it means they’re coming.”

“Who?”

“Alphas.”

“More than one?”

“A pack of ‘em.”

“An alpha pack,” Peter corrected, “and they’re not coming—they’re already here.”

Isaac reached to touch the mark on the door. Some strange magic must have burned or etched it deep into the wood. What was it with werewolves and symbols? Isaac supposed that every pack must’ve had an insignia of some kind.

“Shouldn’t Scott know about this?”

“No,” Derek replied emphatically. “He’s been through enough these past few weeks. He needs time—time to be a teenager again.”

Isaac suppressed a chuckle. “What about me?”

Derek gave him a stoic look. “You should probably use the time to take care of a few things you’ve been neglecting.”

Despite Derek’s cold exterior, Isaac couldn’t help but be a little touched. That was probably the closest Derek had ever gotten to expressing concern for Isaac since they’d met.

“Don’t you think you could use a little help?”

“Oh, he has help,” Peter said. “Don’t forget—I’m not a ghost anymore.”

As his brow furrowed, Derek seemed to seethe. “This is my problem, Isaac. I’ll deal with it.”

“What about Erica and Boyd? Could they have run into this pack?”

Derek shook his head. “I doubt it. They should’ve learned their lesson by now.”

“Lesson? What lesson?”

“About trying to be omegas together in the wild,” Peter said, “which didn’t work out too well for them the first time.” When Isaac glared at him, he went on, “But, I’m sure they’re long gone by now. Or dead. Dead, most likely.”

“We’re just gonna give up on them?” Isaac exclaimed.

“Take a break, Isaac,” Derek said. “Don’t forget that you still have a life outside of all this.”

Isaac couldn’t tell if that was a potshot at him or not. Regardless, it was the truth, and the truth hurt.

He really didn’t have much of a life outside of all this anymore.

***

Isaac decided to check on Scott first. They’d been through a lot together in such a short amount of time, and though he liked to think that such circumstances usually brought people closer together, Isaac wasn’t exactly sure where he stood with Scott. He really wanted to call Scott a friend, but, most of their time together had been sandwiched between life and death.

As the McCall house came into view, Isaac noticed a few lights on though the driveway was empty. Since it was a Thursday night and still relatively early in the evening, he figured Scott would be home. Rather than just knocking on the door, though, Isaac felt an urge to exercise, so he climbed the side of the house to greet Scott at his window. It seemed like a friendly gesture and Scott’s reaction would probably be a good litmus test for where they stood.

Isaac expected Scott to be doing his homework—what he did not expect was to see Scott lying facedown on his bed sobbing into his pillow.

Even though nobody was home, it seemed like Scott was still trying to keep to himself, to contain his sobs, to stop the tears from flowing. Isaac did not expect the tiles beneath him to feel as if they were shifting—he did not expect to feel his heart breaking for Scott.

There could only be one person who could have done that to him. Perhaps it was too much to hope for that the collateral damage from her reign of terror would end with Gerard’s fall.

Isaac crept down back to the ground as quietly as he could. Though he was tempted to let Scott be, he couldn’t bear to let him wallow in his misery. Not Scott. That was something that Isaac himself might’ve wanted, but not Scott. He deserved better.

After walking to the front door, Isaac took a moment to steel his resolve before ringing the doorbell. He wasn’t sure if Scott would actually answer the door, so he tried to listen for any signs of movement. It took a moment, but after what seemed to be a reluctant thud, Isaac could hear footsteps descend the staircase.

The door unlocked, then opened.

“Isaac?”

Scott’s eyes were red and he’d barely rubbed away any tears. Isaac tried his best to feign surprise. “Scott? Are you all right?”

Scott sniffed and started rubbing his eyes more thoroughly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I thought you were Stiles.”

For some reason, the remark stung way more than it should have. “Is now a bad time? I—I should probably go.”

Scott opened the door wider. “No, no, don’t go! What’s up?”

Derek’s words echoed in the back of Isaac’s mind. “Nothing—nothing, really. I just felt like… I thought I would just stop by. Are you sure you’re all right, Scott?”

Scott sniffed again and seemed to shrug to himself, as if to resign himself to the inevitable. “Allison broke up with me. Again.”

Isaac swallowed. “I’m sorry. Was it—because of what all happened?”

Scott looked towards the ground for a moment. “Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I knew it was coming. It made sense. I guess I just didn’t…I didn’t expect it to still hurt so much this time.”

Isaac took a deep breath. He just couldn’t stand to see him like this. He stepped towards Scott and grasped his shoulder. Squeezing, he tried to draw Scott’s pain out of his skin. Nothing happened.

Scott did grin, however. “Isaac, I—don’t think it works like that. Not with this, anyway.”

He withdrew his hand. “Sorry, I…” Isaac lost his train of thought. He had his arms open. What the hell, why not? He embraced Scott and brought him close. To his surprise, Isaac felt Scott embrace him back after just a slight pause.

“I’m sorry, Scott,” Isaac repeated.

Scott sniffed. “You’re gonna make me start crying again!” he uttered into Isaac’s shirt.

When Isaac pulled back, Scott was smiling, though. “Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t mention it.” Maybe hugs could be just as effective as supernatural sympathy. “I’m, I’m here for you, you know, if you ever need anything. Or, if, you know, you just wanna hang out. I’m here.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll call you.”

Isaac left the McCall house with a bittersweet sensation in his chest. Of course he was still reeling from seeing Scott so heartbroken, but he was happy that he seemed to be able to make him feel somewhat better. He was also excited that Scott seemed to respond favorably to his offer to hang out, but as he walked, Isaac began to wonder if perhaps Scott was just being polite. He was pretty sure Scott didn’t have his number; he didn’t even know how much longer he would have a phone, anyway.

What the hell? Why was he acting like he was trying to ask Scott out on a date?

Perhaps a part of him was.

Isaac shook his head and cleared his throat. “No,” he said to himself.

He knew he had two more stops to make, both equally unpleasant. It wasn’t that late, and he really didn’t have any more excuses to put them off any longer.

***

For as long as he worked at the cemetery, the funeral home still creeped him out. He found himself hesitating on the front steps of the large brick building that looked as if it had been built last century. _Early_ last century. A part of him hoped that he was too late, that he wouldn’t have to deal with this after all. He exhaled deeply, then stepped inside.

He passed through the foyer and entered the lobby. The receptionist was an elderly woman he didn’t recognize. She looked up and smiled at him warmly. “How may I help you?”

Isaac cleared his throat as he stopped before the desk. “I’m here to claim ashes. Lahey.”

The receptionist turned to her computer and did some typing. “I’m not too late, am I?” Isaac blurted.

“Oh, no, sweetheart. We don’t discard ashes here.”

Of course. Isaac didn’t know he could feel relieved and disappointed at the same time. After another moment of searching, the receptionist stood and informed him that she’d return shortly. She stepped through a side door and after it clicked shut behind her, Isaac waited.

As Derek’s words resurfaced in his mind, Isaac couldn’t help thinking about something he’d tried to push away ever since Matt’s death—that he was partially to blame for everything that happened with Matt, that he shared the blame for all those deaths. He realized it then when Scott told him everything that had happened that night at the police station. Isaac had denied remembering that day at the pool, but it was a lie. He was too ashamed to admit the truth, and it was a day that still haunted him.

The door opened, and the receptionist returned with a sizable box in hand. After setting it on the counter, she presented Isaac with a sheet to sign.

“Thank you,” Isaac said, taking the box.

“God bless.”

As Isaac left the funeral home, he felt a strange sensation in his stomach as he held onto the box, the box that contained his father’s remains. He intended to go straight to his house right after picking up the ashes, but after a block or two, he couldn’t take it anymore. Setting the box down right on the sidewalk, Isaac dropped to his knees and began to sob uncontrollably.

***

Isaac knew what it was. At least, the logical part of him understood. As he stood before the grimy leaf-covered pool, the site of that fateful day just a few years ago, Isaac began to understand many terrible things all at once.

It was a mistake to skip his father’s service. It was a mistake not to mourn his passing. Regardless of what had happened, no matter how badly their relationship had deteriorated, it was a his duty as a son to pay his respects to his father.

Isaac cried out, kicking a stray branch into the pool. The ripples barely made it around all the debris in the pool. Why did his father have to do this to him? Why did he have to make it all so very, very difficult?

Isaac liked Matt when they were in elementary school. He seemed shy like Isaac himself, and Isaac found it easier to reach out to shy kids. They just understood, and when he and Matt discovered a shared interest in comics, that was all they needed to start hanging out.

One of Camden’s favorite pastimes with Isaac was to toss him in the pool whenever they got into a fight. Naturally, as he was so much bigger than Isaac, there was little to stop him once the idea got into his head. Isaac loved it, though, as much as he squirmed and feigned screaming bloody murder in Cam’s arms as he lugged him towards the pool. Mom had disapproved, but most every time, Cam would jump in right after tossing him in.

That was the part that Matt didn’t understand. Cam wasn’t trying to hurt Matt—he was just trying to bring him into the fun.

His father’s reaction to Matt’s near drowning made a terrible misunderstanding worse. As much as he had tried to deny it, Isaac realized that his father’s mania had started much earlier than he wanted to admit. The way his father came down on Matt, the way he berated him, blaming him—Isaac remembered catching Cam’s eyes and seeing the awful guilt weighing on his face. No doubt his brother felt ashamed for what he’d done.

Their father told them to stay away from Matt. Being so young, Isaac obeyed. Maybe his father had panicked, and he didn’t want to own up to his mistake, but whatever the reason, Isaac was at fault for letting Matt slip away. He should’ve reached out to him, to continue to try to be his friend. Maybe then he could’ve preventing Matt from snapping, from descending into psychopathy.

As Isaac knelt by the pool, he hovered between rage and despair. He wanted to be angry at his father, but he knew the blame could not be solely pinned on his father. Being angry was easier than hurting, and Isaac didn’t want to cry anymore.

He’d only stepped inside briefly to set the box down on the kitchen table. Miraculously, the spare key was still just behind the gap at the bottom of the garage door. He hadn’t really braced himself for reentering the house—he had not been back since that night he had fled on bike from his father, the night he was killed—and he’d been taken aback by how stale and dank the house smelled.

A sadistic idea came to him, causing him to spring to his feet and trot back into the house. Isaac realized the perfect spot for his father’s remains to stay in the meantime. After snatching the box and bolting for the stairs, he never thought he’d ever be in such a rush to go downstairs.

Isaac was not prepared for what he saw. Nearly dropping the box in his hands, he set it on the floor before examining the remains of the cooler that had tortured him for so long.

It looked as if it had simply—exploded. The sides were scattered across the cellar and the lock—the lock was intact, but the hinges it had secured had broken off the cooler. A broken chain lay coiled around the base. What could’ve possibly happened here?

“You haven’t been back here at all, have you?”

Isaac jumped, crying out in surprise as he spun around. As Derek emerged from the shadows, he looked at Isaac with mild amusement.

“What the hell, Derek?” Isaac exclaimed.

“Seriously? What have I always told you about your senses? They never shut off, but our minds do. Pay attention!”

“Fine, I’m a terrible werewolf. What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you weren’t running away from your problems.”

Isaac scoffed. “Isn’t that why you turned me in the first place?”

“No. I did it to help us both, to level the playing field. You’ll never be a better wolf if you don’t overcome the things that motivated you to accept the bite to begin with.”

“So are you saying that you’re here to make sure I don’t run away from _you?”_

Derek gave him that look that he was all-too familiar with. That look that he gave when the subject at hand verged on something emotional or uncomfortable. The look that said, “Please don’t make me talk about my feelings.” Not in the mood to pry things out of his alpha, Isaac turned back to the remnants of the cooler.

“What happened here?”

“Scott used this to try to contain himself during the full moon. I showed him this place. I tried to get him to help me when you were taken into police custody. Time just wasn’t on our side.”

Isaac swallowed. The awful feeling was returning to his stomach. “He thought I killed my father?”

“No, he believed you were innocent. Like I said, time just wasn’t on our side.”

Well, he and Scott really didn’t hit it off at first, so Isaac managed to quell the distress boiling in his stomach. “So, Scott still didn’t have control during the full moon, and he tried to use this to trap himself. Doesn’t look like it worked.”

“I disagree. Scott learned exactly what he needed to that night when he had Allison lock him inside that cooler—the same thing that you learned that night when I tried to chain you and Erica and Boyd up in the train yard. Not only did he find his anchor, he learned to embrace his wolf, not suppress it.”

His anchor—Allison. Without her, now, what would happen to Scott? Still, there seemed to be something awfully poetic about Scott destroying something that had been such an instrument of torture for Isaac.

“As much as you might want to, you shouldn’t abandon this place,” Derek went on. “Is it yours?”

Isaac thought for a moment. “I guess it is. It’s paid off; there’s no mortgage.”

“Then you should do something about it. Clean it up, rent it out, or something. A house is one of the most valuable things you can invest in.”

It was Isaac’s turn to give Derek a look, a look that said, “Who are you, and what have you done with Derek Hale?”

“Look, when my house burned down, and most of my family with it, I didn’t return to it for months. When I finally did, it was like it happened yesterday. No amount of time is gonna be enough to dull that kind of pain. I guess I still return to it because—it’s the only home I’ve ever had.”

Isaac’s circumstances were nowhere near as bleak as Derek’s. “So I guess you’re telling me to suck it up?”

“I’m telling you to clean house—literally and figuratively. 

When Derek left, Isaac did as he was told. He dug through the fridge, bagged up all the rotten and spoiled food, took out the garbage, and did a load of laundry to try to freshen the place up.

Isaac remembered the letter that had been delivered to him at school. It had been right around when Derek was trying to determine if Lydia was the kanima. The letter was from some lawyer about his father’s assets, and it was still buried somewhere in his locker. He’d only skimmed over it, but the gist that he’d understood from it was that he’d be entitled to his father’s savings when he turned eighteen and that the money burdens of the property would automatically be paid from those savings by the bank.

There was no one to look after the property, of course. That was up to Isaac. Though the smell improved once the house was clean and he was able to shower and get into a set of clothes he hadn’t worn in a while, the uneasiness in his stomach persisted. Even after washing his sheets, it felt strange to get back into a bed he hadn’t slept in for so long—a bed he spent so many nights afraid in.

And of course, the result was nightmares. After waiting so long to finally fall sleep, Isaac awoke soaked in sweat, shaking from an unspeakable terror.

He ran downstairs, put on shoes, and shut the door behind him. No way he could stay here. No way. With the night air still and quiet, Isaac ran at full speed towards the abandoned railroad depot. He expected Derek to be asleep so that he could simply slip in and collapse, but that wasn’t the case. He and Peter were up and leaning over some kind of map on a table.

“Isaac?”

Exhausted and out of breath, he practically collapsed before Derek. “I can’t—I can’t stay there, Derek. Please…”

“And here is better than there?”

“No,” Isaac coughed, shaking his head, “but I can’t… Please, can we find another place? Just somewhere else—better?”

“He has a point,” Peter interjected. “The amenities of this place leave something to be desired.”

Derek offered a hand and helped Isaac to his feet. “Go rest. I’ll work something out.”

When Isaac hit his makeshift cot, he was out in seconds. At least for one night, the nightmares didn’t follow him.

***

After a few weeks passed, Isaac began to contemplate getting rid of his phone. His own savings were meager and the phone was not doing much to contribute to his social life.

Scott hadn’t called. Finals approached, school ended, and Isaac learned through the grapevine that Jackson was moving to London and Allison was spending the summer in France. The trail for Boyd and Erica which had already been cold became practically frozen and the alleged alpha pack Derek and Peter mentioned remained in hiding. Whatever they were planning, these alphas were taking their sweet time to do it.

Isaac remained convinced that Boyd and Erica’s disappearance were linked to the alphas, but Derek remained skeptical, and it frustrated Isaac immensely. He seemed more interested in tracking the alphas, which was probably Peter’s doing, and Isaac could find no evidence to back up his gut.

On the bright side, Peter was looking at places for them to stay. Derek seemed open to visiting them, but he’d turned down every place Peter had found so far. So, they remained at the abandoned railroad yard, and Isaac spent much of his time either listening to Peter and Derek bicker, or serving as a punching bag for Peter during their alleged training sessions.

Isaac got into a habit of visiting his house. He would eat there, change clothes, and try to take care of the yard, but he wouldn’t sleep there. The fear of the state coming to take him away lingered in the back of his mind every time he entered the house, but so far, it remained a threat that had yet to manifest. Maybe Stiles’ dad had a hand in it—with a good word in from Scott.

Wishful thinking. As Isaac sat at the dining room table eating a sandwich, he was started by a noise that he hadn’t heard in weeks—his phone ringing.

As the piercing ring filled the house, Isaac couldn’t remember where he’d put it. Shit. He checked back by the door, but it wasn’t in his bag. God, he was a terrible werewolf. He couldn’t pinpoint where the sound was coming from, even with his advanced hearing. It was just coming from somewhere on the main level.

He dashed to the living room, back to the kitchen, and then—ah hah—the bathroom. How did it end up there? Isaac pushed the question from his mind as he answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Isaac! I’m so glad this number still works. I was afraid it’d become disconnected.”

“Stiles?”

“The one and only.”

“What’s up?” Isaac could not remember when he’d given Stiles his number, but he was glad Stiles had it.

“Not much. Listen, I could use your help with something—some tag-teaming, if you will.”

Despite himself, Isaac was curious. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, I’m sure you probably heard about Scott and Allison, and although he won’t admit it, Scott’s been in a real funk lately. Are you sitting down right now?”

Isaac lowered the toilet seat and sat. “Yeah.”

“Good, because you won’t believe what he’s doing these days—are you ready for it? He’s in summer school. _Summer school!”_

“Summer school.”

“Right, summer school. _Voluntarily!_ It’s not like his mom is making him. And he’s saving up for a motorcycle. A _motorcycle!”_

“That…that doesn’t sound all that terrible.”

“Are you kidding me? Scott has done nothing but devote himself to his studies and working and before you know it, the whole summer’s gonna go by and Scott’s gonna get on his motorcycle and split his head open and I’ll have gone the whole summer without getting to hang out with my best friend.”

Isaac could see his point. Maybe. “So…how can I help?”

“I’m _so_ glad you asked. Obviously, my usual charms haven’t been up to par with getting Scott’s attention, so with your wolfly charisma, I’m sure the both of us can rescue Scott from his fate this summer.”

Isaac couldn’t help but get a little nervous at what Stiles seemed to be implying. Was he implying anything? “Sure—I’m game. Did you have a plan?”

“I do. Grab your lacrosse gear and meet me at Scott’s house in twenty minutes. Can you do that?”

“Sure.”

“Great! See you then.”

As Isaac found himself smiling, he realized he was starting to like Stiles a lot. He retrieved his lacrosse gear like he was told and made his way towards Scott’s house. With a remarkable fluke of timing, Stiles’ jeep was pulling into the driveway just as Isaac was making his way up the sidewalk. Mrs. McCall’s car was there as well, so everyone must’ve been home.

Isaac met Stiles on the doorstep. Like Isaac, Stiles was also decked out in his lacrosse gear.

“All right, leave the talking to me,” Stiles said as he rang the doorbell.

“Since when do you use the doorbell?”

“Never. I’m trying to prove a point.”

When the door opened, Scott’s mom greeted them with a knowing smile. “Stiles, Isaac—hello.”

“Mrs. McCall,” Stiles began, standing up right and proper, “it’s good to see you. Is Scott home?”

Mrs. McCall simply laughed and stepped aside, waving them in. “Come on in, boys. He’s upstairs.”

That was all Stiles needed to spring into the house and bolt up the stairs. Surprised, Isaac trailed behind him at a much more courteous pace. He glanced back at Mrs. McCall as he went up the steps; she was still smiling.

“Scott! This is an emergency!”

Isaac entered the room to find Stiles standing before Scott, who was sitting at his desk and looking back at Stiles, confused. Books were all over the desk and two piles seemed to be stacked by the door—one significantly taller than the other. Read and unread books for English?

“What?” Scott asked, glancing at Isaac as he entered the room. “What emergency?”

“A lacrosse emergency.” Stiles grabbed Scott’s crosse from beside the window and tossed it to Scott. “Gear up and let’s head out.”

When Stiles grabbed Scott’s gym bag and left the room, Scott remained sitting at the desk. Isaac shrugged.

“You coming?”

Scott began to grin. After shutting his textbook, Scott led Isaac out of the room and grabbed his shoes before they all piled into Stiles’ jeep. Isaac sat in the back while Scott rode shotgun.

“Why do I feel like I’m being kidnapped?” Scott said.

“Dude, it’s not kidnapping if you come willingly!” Stiles replied jovially. “Come on, now.”

Stiles drove them straight to the lacrosse fields near school. After Scott put on his gear, they took turns playing goalie, and for Isaac, it was refreshing to be able to play the game without anything at stake: winning, championships—or lives.

Although Isaac held back whenever it was Stiles’ turn, Scott seemed more than willing to tease his best friend.

“I said no wolf powers!”

Scott would merely shrug. “I can’t help it!”

Isaac threw Stiles a bone every now and then, but Scott did not hold back for him, either. He seemed to be challenging Isaac—even through the goalie mask, he could see Scott egging him on. It took Isaac several tries, but after taking a moment to steady and focus himself, Isaac scored a goal that almost singed the net.

“Yeah!” Isaac cried out.

“Lucky shot!” Stiles said.

“Good job, Isaac,” Scott congratulated, lifting up his mask to smile at him. Isaac tried to smile back, but it felt kind of funny to do so.

They exhausted themselves after about two hours of practice. Sweating through their lacrosse gear, they packed up and Stiles took them to grab smoothies before dropping Scott off back at his house.

“So, where am I taking you?” Stiles asked as Isaac stepped into the front passenger seat.

Isaac thought for a moment. He initially considered having Stiles drop him off near the railroad yard, but decided against it. “Take me to my house.”

Stiles seemed surprised. “OK.”

Stiles managed to not make any comments during the short ride. Once they arrived, Stiles looked out at the house. “Wow.”

“What?”

“It looks—good. You’ve really cleaned the place up.”

Isaac shrugged. “A little.”

Stiles bounced his knees up and down. “I actually really gotta pee. Can I use your bathroom?”

“You can’t go in the yard like I do?”

“Does the bathroom not work?”

“I’m kidding. And yes, it does work.”

Isaac and Stiles hopped out of the jeep and Isaac let him inside the house. He gave him directions to the guest bathroom and set his stuff down by the door. After Isaac went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Stiles entered the kitchen, waving his hands around in tiny circles as if he were casting a spell.

“So…how is this all—functioning?”

“You mean, who’s paying for it?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re not still working at the graveyard, are you?”

Isaac shook his head. “My dad’s paying for it.” When Stiles gawked at him, he went on, “I think the bank, or his lawyer, set up some kind of automatic payments from the savings he had. Or insurance money. I don’t really know.”

“So, is the house is yours, then?”

“When I turn eighteen.”

“I take it you’re staying here?”

“No, not all the time.”

“Do you sleep here?” When Isaac shook his head, Stiles asked, “Why not?”

“I just can’t sleep here.”

Stiles nodded. Isaac greatly appreciated that he did not press the issue. “Well, I should probably head out.”

“Wait—can I ask you something?”

Stiles paused. “Sure.”

Isaac wasn’t sure why he blurted it out. He probably wouldn’t get another chance like this for a while.

“Why does Scott love Allison?”

Stiles scoffed. “You—you’re asking me? Why would you ask me? I may be his best friend and all, but there are certain things that evade even me about the inner workings of one Scott McCall.”

“Yeah, but, she tried to kill him. Hell, her whole _family_ tried to kill him.”

“Well, short of _actually_ killing him, I don’t think there’s a way she could get him to stop liking her.”

“That’s insane.”

“That’s love. Hell, the girl I like has ignored me for most of my life, and that hasn’t stopped me, either. Have you ever been in love?”

Isaac thought for a moment. “No.” Maybe.

“Well, it’s one of those things you don’t really get until it happens to you. Sometimes, it just does—it just happens. I mean, how do you explain why someone just doesn’t like broccoli and prefers mac and cheese over spaghetti, or just likes the color blue best—yes, I’m hungry—but that stuff, sometimes it’s just innate. Involuntary, really.”

Stiles started looking at Isaac in a peculiar way, as if he was just starting to figure something out. Isaac didn’t like it.

Stiles approached him as a grin transformed his expression. “Isaac—do you like Scott?”

Isaac scoffed. “What? No! He’s just—” He caught himself, but forced it out regardless of whether Scott really thought it true or not. “a friend.”

_“Isaac_ ,” Stiles repeated, “do you _like_ Scott?”

“No!” he insisted, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be crazy.”

“All right, all right,” Stiles said, still smiling. He turned and started to leave.

“Stiles.” The more he tried to suppress it, the warmer his face seemed to get.

Stiles looked back. “Yeah?”

“Don’t tell Scott.”

Stiles tempered his expression. “I won’t. I won’t tell anyone, for that matter.” He started to leave, but stopped again right outside the kitchen. “For what it’s worth, Scott would be totally cool with it. That, I know for a fact.”

Isaac leaned against the kitchen counter, suddenly deflated. He trusted Stiles, but the whole situation just reminded him of the last time he saw his brother—the last time he seriously considered his sexuality.

Cam was standing at the counter making himself a sandwich. Isaac entered the kitchen. They had the house to themselves. Cam was redeploying tomorrow, so there was no more time to wait.

“Cam? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Izzy,” he said, spreading mayonnaise on his sandwich. “Whatcha got?”

Cam was the only one who ever called him Izzy. “When did you start liking girls?”

His brother laughed. “I’ve always liked girls. How do you mean, exactly?”

Isaac plopped himself at the table. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Cam set the mayonnaise down and sat at the table next to Isaac. The back of his neck burned as he felt his older brother looking at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“So, you didn’t just up and start liking girls one day?” Isaac blurted. He was starting to panic.

“Well, it’s—it’s different for everybody. You just hit your growth spurt. Give it some time.”

Isaac shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever liked girls.” Isaac swallowed. “I think I like guys.”

Cam exhaled. “That’s OK.”

“Really?” Isaac said, surprised.

“Yeah, really!” Cam repeated, nodding. “You like what you like.”

“I—I’m not sure, though.”

“It’s OK. You have time to figure this stuff out. You might like girls, you might like guys; hell, you might like both. Don’t sweat it.”

“Do you think Mom and Dad would have a problem?”

Cam took a deep breath. “Tell you what: take some time to think about this—really think about it, and when I get back, we’ll tell Mom and Dad together—whatever you find out.”

Their father was really the parent at issue—it was an unspoken understanding between them.

Of course, Cam never came back.

Isaac found himself crying. Somehow, tears just began streaming down his cheeks as a gnawing emptiness ground itself into his core. Derek was wrong. Isaac couldn’t imagine himself staying here for long.

There was just too much hurt here.

***

In the weeks that followed, Stiles seemed to make it his mission to make sure Isaac was involved whenever he hung out with Scott. Isaac had mixed feelings about it; on one hand, he knew what Stiles was doing, but on the other, he’d much rather spend time with Scott than with Derek. Stiles proved to be a useful buffer between them in preventing any awkwardness.

Scott never questioned why Isaac was there, however. He seemed to accept Isaac’s presence as he did Stiles’, and for that, Isaac was grateful.

Though Derek insisted that he was tracking the alpha pack, he seemed no closer to finding them than he had been a few months ago. He would go with Derek through the woods and the preserve to practice his tracking, but nothing would turn up. Isaac never fared any better when he went by himself—until one day, like most great discoveries, he found something through sheer luck.

A glint caught his eye as he trekked through the woods. He lost it momentarily, but after careful backtracking, he was able to find the source of the glint beneath the dirt and leaves.

A ring. One of Erica’s rings.

He picked it up and held it between his fingers, examining it. The dirt encrusted throughout the cheap plastic suggested it’d been out there for a long time. Isaac remembered when Erica first got it—it was one of many flashy, if not tacky, accessories she had tried out to complement her transformation. Isaac had crossed this terrain before, so he had definitely missed this the first time around.

A sound jolted him from his concentration. It was distant, and though he couldn’t tell where it was coming from, a spicy scent confirmed his suspicions—there was someone else nearby.

Panicking, Isaac leapt up one of the trees to hide. It was his first thought, and though better ideas came to him as he climbed, he tried to convince himself that people rarely looked up.

Giggling. It wasn’t just one someone, but two someones. From his vantage point, Isaac spotted in the distance a pair heading towards a tree—a man and a woman. The man was large and looked quite formidable, though at the moment he was being pushed against a tree by the more slender woman.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” the man said.

“We have a few moments to spare,” the woman countered.

They started to kiss and embraced each other passionately. The man seemed like a typical muscle meathead while the woman had a lithe, sinuous form. The woman had long, black hair down past her shoulders, which stood in stark contrast to the man’s buzz cut. They seemed like a normal couple until Isaac caught a glimpse of claws growing from the woman’s fingers.

They were werewolves.

“Seems like no matter where I go, high school follows me everywhere.”

Isaac was just as startled as the couple when the third woman appeared. Was it—it couldn’t be…could it?

Ms. Morrell? His guidance counselor?

“Frolicking in the woods like teenagers,” she chided. “Is this the sort of behavior I should expect from you two?”

As the couple glared at her, Ms. Morrell appeared unfazed. The werewolf woman spoke—her eyes flashing red, “We’re entitled to a moment for ourselves.”

“Not when we have work to do.”

When Ms. Morrell set off, the couple followed her. As they moved further from Isaac’s position, Isaac found himself being swallowed by a paralyzing fear. This was the break he’d been waiting for. This had to be the alpha pack. Could he follow them without being caught? Should he go back and tell Derek what he’d found?

As Isaac descended the tree, he recalled Derek’s stubbornness and steeled himself for the danger ahead. He couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time.

He was Boyd and Erica’s only hope.


	2. (Prologue) Isaac and Scott realize their mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first started this fic at the end of 3x04 like most fics, but once I got about 30k words in, I realized I was missing something. So, I went back and added a prologue, and realized it felt too awkward to jump from post season 2 to a third of the way into season 3. Thus, we have a two-part prologue, as I really wanted to at least touch on some of the events between 3x01 through 3x04.

_Isaac tries to make up for his mistakes_

Isaac had been through a lot in the past couple of days. Too much, really. His body was still healing and seemed to resist any movements. He should’ve been in bed, but he couldn’t sleep knowing what Derek and Scott were plotting. (There was only one bed in the entire loft, anyway, and he didn’t want to sleep in Derek’s smell.) Isaac might’ve played a key role in finding Boyd and Erica, but he wanted to do more. He had to.

Erica. He couldn’t believe she was gone. How could the alphas steal a memory so profoundly traumatic?

As he listened to Derek, Scott, and Stiles formulate their plan, Isaac realized he probably just answered his own question. Whose mind wouldn’t want to part with pain, to be spared the agony of grief?

After Peter made another smart remark about their odds, Isaac leapt off the floor. He felt briefly dizzy, but then forced himself towards the stairwell. He spotted Peter in his way, but made his way down the stairwell anyway. Derek and Scott were just leaving.

“Wait!” Isaac called. “I’m coming with you!”

He attempted to leap over Peter, but another bout of dizziness forced him to shove his way past instead.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Isaac,” Derek said, “we talked about this.”

“I can help!” Isaac insisted. “I can—”

The dizziness did not let up. As the room started to spin, Isaac felt his body lean. Scott was by his side, however, well before Isaac could hit the floor.

Scott grasped his shoulder and let Isaac fall against him. “Isaac—you are in no condition to walk, let alone fight. We got this. We’ll be OK.”

Isaac sighed. “I hate—I hate this feeling. I hate feeling _useless_.”

“You’re _not_ useless,” Scott insisted, “but you’re not a machine, either. You have to rest.”

Stiles approached them and took Isaac from Scott. “All right, big boy, let’s get you back to bed.”

“You might be surprised what even a couple hours of rest can do for you,” Peter interjected, stepping off the staircase.

Isaac caught Derek looking at him just before he and Scott stepped out of the loft. It was the same look that Stiles seemed to be giving him as helped him back into his makeshift floor bed.

“What?” Isaac snapped.

“You’re sleeping on the floor?”

“It’s that, or Derek’s bed.”

“Well, shit, he’s not using it now, is he?”

“I’m fine.”

Stiles sighed. “Well, I know you’re worried. It’s OK to be worried. Believe me, I know what it feels like to feel so incredibly useless sometimes. But, you gotta be smart about this. You can’t just recklessly throw yourself into danger—again. You might have nine lives, but don’t be so quick to spend them all.”

“Derek already gave me that speech.”

“Well, it’s probably worth repeating, since you seem to bear an awful resemblance to another stubborn werewolf friend of mine.”

Friend. Was Stiles calling him a friend? “Isn’t that what Scott’s doing?”

“Yes, but, the important difference is that he can take care of himself. You, right now, on the other hand, I could smother with a pillow. So do us all a favor and get yourself some rest, all right? Who knows—we might end up needing you before the night is up.”

Before Stiles left the room, he gave Isaac another look, one that reminded Isaac of a time not too long ago. Isaac owed him an unspoken favor—he’d kept Isaac’s secret from Scott all this time, and Isaac knew that was a lot to ask of him. There could be no doubt now—Stiles respected him enough to do this favor for him, and that was something he’d do only for a friend.

Stiles was right about another thing, too. As difficult as it might’ve been to rest during the full moon, he had to be ready for whatever the night had in store for him. He shut his eyes, but then underestimated how exhausted he really was—the next thing he knew, his phone was buzzing inside his duffel bag.

With a burst of energy, Isaac sprang for the bag and yanked his phone from it. “Hello?”

“Isaac?” It was Scott.

“Yeah?”

“How are you feeling?”

Adrenaline began to surge through his bloodstream. “Good. What’s going on?”

“Well, we’ve—we’ve got a problem, and we could use your help. Are you up for it?”

Isaac grinned. “Where do you need me?”

Finally, this was his chance—his chance to make everything right. Maybe he couldn’t save Erica—and that was a regret he’d carry with him for the rest of his life—but he will damn well do everything he can to save Boyd.

* * *

_Scott starts to worry about Isaac_

Scott had been so busy during the summer that he hadn’t really kept up with Stiles and Isaac. Luckily, Stiles had been cool enough to make the effort, but Scott still felt kind of bad. He’d just had so much to do.

Then he found out about all the trouble Isaac had gotten into, and he realized his neglect had actually put Isaac in danger. Sure, Derek had had a hand in making sure Scott was out of the loop, but that didn’t excuse Scott’s negligence. As much as he wanted to be normal and just have a normal summer, he’d learned long ago that he still had a responsibility to the people around him. It was a responsibility thrust upon him, sure, but it was his nonetheless.

The point had only been reinforced earlier that day when Isaac managed to show up at cross country practice. Scott was glad to see that he looked OK—until he looked a little closer. Isaac’s locker was packed full of clothes—like a closet—and it had way more than just a few outfits to change into after practice.

“You living out of your locker?”

“Nah, I’m living at Derek’s,” Isaac replied cooly.

Scott had been at Derek’s new place. It was big, but—there wasn’t a whole lot there except empty space.

“Where are you sleeping?”

“On the floor.” Isaac kept his eyes on the locker. There was a lot to sift through. “It’s a good floor. It’s, uh, flat and—hard.” He shut the locker and shrugged. “Yeah, flat and hard.”

Scott was left with so many questions, but coach had blown the whistle and dismissed them all to the field. He tried to find Isaac at his locker after school, but then realized he probably had gone to his gym locker instead. He found Isaac there and shared the good news about Aiden being suspended for two weeks.

“It’s not much, but, at least they won’t be forming super wolf for a little while.”

“Yeah, I still think we should’ve killed them.”

“We’ll kill ‘em next time,” Scott reassured. Isaac chuckled.

Scott noticed that Isaac seemed to be cycling out clothes in his duffel bag. “Uh, how do you get to Derek’s?” he blurted.

Isaac seemed self-conscious all of a sudden. Scott didn’t mean to make it sound so accusatory. “I, uh, I walk. To the bus stop.”

Scott thought for a way to make it sound less like he was offering charity. He could tell Isaac didn’t ask for help very often.

“Let me give you a ride instead.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s no problem.”

He could tell Isaac was trying not to blush, but he seemed grateful. “Yeah.”

“All right, cool!”

Of course, the twins didn’t give up, and he and Isaac would’ve been screwed had it not been for Deucalion. Scott tried his best to shake it off as he and Isaac walked to his bike.

“So he’s supposed to be their leader?” Isaac asked.

“I think so. I met him at the hospital. There was definitely something off about him then, too.”

When they stopped before his bike, Isaac began to eye the motorcycle warily.

“What?” Scott suppressed a laugh.

“Is that thing safe?”

“Yeah. It’s mom-approved.” Scott detached the extra helmet he normally reserved for Stiles. With only a moment of hesitation, Isaac accepted it with a smile.

Isaac hopped on right after Scott and they blazed out of the parking lot. Although he kept the bike’s speed moderate for Isaac’s sake, they reached Derek’s loft a short while later.

“Thanks for the ride,” Isaac said, stepping off the bike.

“Anytime.” Just as Isaac turned to leave, Scott asked, “So—uh, why are you staying here, and not at, you know, your house?” When Isaac gave him a questioning look, Scott added, “Stiles mentioned that the house was yours.”

Isaac swallowed. “I can’t go back there. I just can’t.” He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and turned towards the loft.

Scott sighed. Oh, Isaac. There was so much he wanted to do for his friend, yet—he wasn’t sure if there was anything he really _could_ do for him. Not when he was still with Derek. Not when Isaac still clearly felt so bound to his alpha. If he had another chance to help Isaac, though, he would take it.

And he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him ever again.

* * *

_Isaac goes home_

Isaac would never understand Derek Hale. The past few days could’ve turned out worse—a _lot_ worse—so wasn’t that worth celebrating? Shouldn’t finding—and saving—his sister have put Derek in a better mood? Wasn’t the new place meant to be a safe place for the _entire_ pack?

Fuck the rain. Somehow, he’d _always_ managed to be stuck in the rain at the worst times of his life. The night his father was killed. Hell, the night his mother died. The morning he found out Camden was never coming back. The rain was always against him; nothing good ever came from it.

He couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. He had a house. Why the fuck didn’t he just use it? What did it matter, the endless nights of nightmares? The days of beatings and cleaning up mess after mess just to avoid more beatings? The nights and nights of staring across the street and seeing how much better everyone else had it? The days of taking the long way from school just to stay away from the house just a little while longer?

Fuck the floor. Fuck having a huge ass place with no furniture. Fuck always waking up with a sore back.

Isaac stopped. He wasn’t exactly sure why he stopped—just that it seemed important that he stop right at that moment. When he realized where he was on the sidewalk, something hit him with such force that he thought it had to have been a bolt of lightning.

He was right in front of Scott’s house.

As Isaac took a moment to collect himself, and soak in the storm just a little bit more, he realized it couldn’t have been a coincidence. After what happened today, he had to take a chance. It was now or never.

With the family car in the driveway, Isaac took to the front door. Just as he reached for the doorbell, the door opened in another freak of timing to reveal Scott’s mother.

“Isaac!”

“Mrs. McCall!”

She stopped abruptly before Isaac. She looked to be in a hurry, and given that she was dressed in her hospital scrubs, she must’ve been on her way to the hospital. Isaac didn’t know what to do with himself, though, confronted like this so soon. He was incredibly embarrassed to be soaked through like this, his bag in his hand. He was hoping to have at least a few moments to collect his thoughts and think of what he wanted to say.

Luckily, Mrs. McCall seemed to understand. “Scott’s upstairs. I’m already late. Make yourself at home!”

She stepped aside and gestured for him to enter despite the water dripping off him. Isaac obliged, not wanting to take up more of her time. When she closed the door and locked up behind her, Isaac looked to the staircase and let out a long sigh. Were he and Scott friends? _Really_ friends?

Now was the time to find out.

He climbed the stairs and stepped gingerly towards Scott’s room. He took another deep breath—and knocked.

“Come in, mom.”

Isaac opened the door. When Scott looked back at him from his desk, Isaac was not prepared for the surprise and—sympathy gazing back at him. He had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to.

“I was wondering if I could, ah, ask you a favor.”

 


	3. Isaac asks Scott for a favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac opens up to Scott about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the point where I had originally begun this story.

“I was wondering if I could, uh, ask you a favor.”  
  
Scott was not expecting to find Isaac soaked down to his toes, and the duffle bag beside him fared even worse. Scott was about to ask him what had happened when he glanced towards the window and remembered the rain pelting the house. Duh.  
  
“Are you all right?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine.” With a smirk, Isaac added, “I’ve had worse.”  
  
Scott stood up and pulled a towel from his closet. “What happened?”  
  
“Derek threw me out.”  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
Isaac accepted the towel from Scott and began drying his hair. “I don’t know. He just said something about his sister being there made it too much for me to be there, or something.”  
  
He shrugged at Scott’s look of incredulity. “That’s crap.”  
  
“I know.” Isaac crumpled the towel in his hand and glanced down and behind him at the trail of wet he’d left. “I’m sorry about the mess. I just—didn’t know where else to go.”  
  
“It’s cool. You can stay here for as long as you want.”  
  
“I ran into your mom downstairs just before she left. I didn’t get a chance to ask her, but, do you think she’d be all right with that?”  
  
Scott eyed the mess in the hallway. “Sure, yeah. Absolutely. Why don’t you dry off?” He indicated his bathroom. “I’ve got spare clothes if you need them.”  
  
As he went to grab a mop, Scott pondered how his mom might react to having two werewolves in the house, now, as if one wasn’t already enough. He figured that if she could believe that Isaac would be neat, she’d have a better time with him around the house. She’d been really cool these past few weeks, though—way cooler than Scott could’ve imagined. He knew she believed in him and trusted him to do the right thing, and that inspired him all the more to be a better son.  
  
When Scott got back to his room, Isaac was sitting on his bed and had changed into one of Scott’s sweatpants and an old The Ataris shirt. Seeing the shirt on Isaac, he laughed. The shirt had shrunk egregiously in the wash years ago, but Scott had begged his mom not to throw it away. Now, it was all worth it—just to see it on Isaac and the hysterical midriff it gave him.  
  
“What?”  
  
“That shirt looks really great on you.”  
  
“Thanks. It was the least offensive-smelling shirt I could find.”  
  
Scott came around and jabbed Isaac’s arm as he sat beside him. “Jerk.” Isaac laughed.  
  
Isaac looked towards the open notebook on Scott’s desk. “Were you in the middle of studying? I didn’t interrupt you, did I?”  
  
“It’s cool. I only had a little bit left, anyway.”  
  
“What’s the word of the day, today?”  
  
Scott grinned. “Peripeteia.”  
  
“Para-te, what?”  
  
“Peripeteia: a noun meaning ‘an abrupt change in events or circumstances.’ Like a turning point.”  
  
“Huh. Interesting.” Isaac let out a deep breath. “Look, Scott, I—I wanted to apologize again for what I did, or almost did, to Allison.” He grabbed his hair. “I, I freaked out. I just—”  
  
“Dude, it wasn’t your fault. Just forget about it.”  
  
Isaac shook his head. “It’s no excuse. I should’ve been in control. I’ve had enough time to, to deal with my shit.”  
  
Scott shrugged. “A couple of months. Is that really enough time for anybody?”  
  
Isaac tensed. As Scott saw how subtly Isaac began to tremble, he realized that, maybe, he really hadn’t been dealing with this—at all.  
  
“Your dad really did a number on you, didn’t he?”  
  
When Isaac began to sob, Scott panicked. Crap, always with saying the wrong thing.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Scott said, rubbing Isaac’s back, “you just dried yourself off. Now you’re gonna get yourself all wet again.”  
  
Isaac burst out laughing in between sniffly cries. Scott tried to smile as Isaac looked at him in his awkward laugh-crying state.  
  
“I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now without you, Scott. Frankly, I’d probably be dead. Or worse.”  
  
“Worse than dead?”  
  
“A monster.”  
  
Scott took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess that is worse.”  
  
Isaac wiped his nose with his wrist and sniffed. “You know, I really believed in Derek. When he showed me what he could do, I thought, this was a miracle! Level the playing field? Be faster, stronger—better in every way? I thought, this—this was going to make up for everything, for all those times that my dad locked me in that… For just the stupidest mistakes…”  
  
Scott took Isaac’s shoulder. “You didn’t deserve that. Any of that. What your father did to you was wrong.”  
  
“Yeah.” Isaac nodded, slowly. “Yeah.” He wiped away a few tears and forced a smile. “You know, all this time, I’ve been trying to convince myself of that. It makes a world of difference hearing it from someone else.”  
  
“Well, I’m sure we all like to think things about ourselves. I, for instance, like to think I’m a good dancer, but you know how that goes.”  
  
Isaac grinned. “Better than Stiles.”  
  
“Not saying much!”  
  
They laughed. After a moment, Isaac went on, “He wasn’t all bad, you know; my dad. But after my brother was killed in action, he just—started to change. And then my mom… It was like he flipped a switch.  
  
“I remember the first time he put me in that thing. I missed my curfew by twelve minutes; I wasn’t expecting him to be waiting up for me that late. He demanded where I’d been—and honestly, I didn’t have a good answer for him. I was just out wandering; lost track of time.  
  
“He didn’t believe me. He just started screaming. He latched on to this idea that I’d rather be sleeping out on the streets and I tried to deny it, but he just grabbed me and pulled me down to the basement. He wouldn’t let go of me, and all the while, he just rips the cover off this giant cooler and throws me inside it.  
  
“When he shut the lid, I was just in shock the whole time. I just couldn’t believe it was happening, what he was doing. But then, I heard him start to drill into the top—that’s when I realized, holy shit, he’s really going to do this. He’s really going to lock me in here.”  
  
Scott held his breath for a moment. “What did you do?”  
  
Shaking his head, Isaac replied, “Nothing. I was scared—terrified out of my wits. At first I thought, OK, he’s just trying to scare me, to prove a point, but when the drilling stopped—and I heard the lock click—I really started to panic.  
  
“I called out to him, ‘Dad? Dad?’ quietly at first, ‘cause I thought he was still in the basement, but when I didn’t hear anything, I flipped out. I lost my shit. I just started screaming, banging, scratching—anything to get his attention—but I just exhausted myself. I don’t know how long I tried, but eventually, the panic just collapsed and gave way to despair. I was so freaked out, so tired, that all I could do was just cry, even when my eyes dried out.  
  
“I didn’t get a minute of rest that night. Time stopped existing while I was in that thing. I thought I was going to suffocate.”  
  
Scott felt his blood pressure rising. “Your dad didn’t leave you in there all night, did he?”  
  
“He did. When he finally came to get me, I was a zombie. I wasn’t asleep; I wasn’t awake; somehow, all of my senses just shut off. I tried to ignore everything, to sense nothing, inside that tiny space. Yet somehow, nothingness started to feel like infiniteness, you know? And that made it bearable, if that makes sense.”  
  
Scott nodded. “Bounded in a nutshell, yet a king of infinite space.”  
  
Isaac gave him a quick smile. “When he let me out of that thing, I begged him—I absolutely groveled at his feet—to never put me in that thing again. You know what he said? ‘Don’t screw up again, and I won’t have to.’”  
  
Scott sighed. “Wow.”  
  
Isaac hung his head. “Insane, right?”  
  
“What your dad did to you? No question. But—and this is in no way trying to justify it—maybe, in a weird way, he was trying to make sure you weren’t going to leave him.”  
  
Isaac was silent for a moment. “I suppose we’ll never know for sure.”  
  
“Sorry, that was probably dumb of me to say.”  
  
Isaac shook his head and wiped away a few remaining tears. “No, in a crazy person’s mind, it might make sense.”  
  
Isaac cleared his throat. “You know, I’ve never shared that with anybody before. I guess I thought I could just—write off my past with such a dramatic change. I felt like a totally new person. Fake it ‘till you make it, right?”  
  
Scott shrugged. “Derek told me that the bite brings out the best and worst parts about a person. If there’s something I’ve learned from all this, it’s that you can’t run away from your problems no matter how awful they seem.”  
  
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” Isaac glanced out the window. “If you ask me, you’re a hell of a lot better at this than Derek.”  
  
Scott could see that the storm was letting up. “Well, it’s not easy. But, believe me, it gets easier.” He grasped Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac looked back at him. “You’re a good guy. You’ve done really good things. I hope you’ll try to not beat yourself up so much over things that weren’t your fault.”  
  
Isaac gazed at Scott. To Scott’s disappointment, Isaac only seemed to get sadder. His eyes were welling up again.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Isaac leaned forward and kissed Scott, cradling his head between his hands. Alarm bells went off in Scott’s mind, but he was frozen as he felt Isaac’s lips against his. Before he could push him away, Isaac let go and yanked himself back. Scott could only gawk at him.  
  
Isaac leapt off the bed and started pacing. “Holy, hell, that was dumb. Wow, shit, I shouldn’t have done that.” He stopped and faced Scott. “I’m sorry! I’m really, really, really sorry! I did not mean to do that. I shouldn’t have done that.”  
  
Scott’s throat had dried out and it took him a second before he could speak. “That’s—it’s OK. It’s OK, really. I…” He couldn’t think of what he was trying to say.  
  
A heavy silence descended between them. Isaac glued his eyes to the floor as Scott tried to catch his breath. Now this, he really wasn’t expecting.  
  
Finally, Scott stood up. “I, uh, I’ve got an extra sleeping bag—er, a sleeping bag—if you’re OK with that.”  
  
Isaac glanced at Scott and rapidly nodded his head. “Sure, I’m—I’m OK with that.”  
  
“OK, I’ll go grab it. It’ll be much better than the floor.” Scott dashed out the door.  
  
When he reached the top of the staircase, he realized what he’d just said was a really stupid thing to say. Hell, a lot of things he was doing right now were really stupid. He stopped and leaned against the wall.  
  
Tapping his head against it, he uttered, “Shit.”


	4. Isaac and Scott think about each other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac tries to avoid Scott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic ballooned out of a one-shot around an awkward first time between Scott and Isaac. Well, how many firsts? I plan for a lot of firsts between these two...

_Isaac thinks about Scott_

Isaac had not visited Camden’s gravesite in a long time. As he sat before the tombstone in the brisk autumn air, Isaac realized it had been almost two full years since his last visit. The thought forced the air out of him as heavy shame bored into his shoulders. He was grateful for the fact that his father had had the decency to forego a traditional burial in his will. Cremation seemed like an apt fate for the bastard.  
  
No, that wasn’t fair. Maybe that was his father’s way of apologizing to him. Or maybe he didn’t think Isaac would be capable of handling such matters. Fucker.  
  
He was right.  
  
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by in so long, Cam. I won’t try to bullshit you—I stopped coming by because…it was right about the time when Dad had started to become—unhinged. I guess I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want you to see how low our dad had sunk.” Isaac sniffled. “I didn’t want you to see how much I was starting to hate him.”  
  
Isaac took a deep breath. “I guess since he’s gone now, you probably know the whole story. If he’s there with you at all. I hope you kicked his ass—like I never could.  
  
“I know it’s not good. I keep trying really, really hard not to hate him. For as much as I try to understand him, to empathize with him, I just hit one roadblock after the other. It’s just utter nonsense, you know? I was all the family he had left, and this is how he treats me? I wouldn’t treat my worst enemy the way he treated me!”  
  
Isaac pressed his fists against his temples as he tried to relax. “I know, I know; I try to remember the good times, and I know the good times lasted a lot longer than the bad, but they just end up making me really, really sad.”  
  
As he squeezed the daisy bouquet in his hand, Isaac sniffled. “You remember that time when Mom gave us twenty bucks to go to Penny’s to get roses for Dad for their anniversary and pretend it was our idea to remind him? And when it turned out he had actually remembered and had already gotten her a present, he ended up grounding us instead?” Isaac laughed. “That’s probably the last time I’d ever seen Mom really smile like that.”  
  
The wind picked up slightly, rolling against the grass, before dissipating back into silence. It sky had remained overcast throughout the day, which depressed Isaac, considering how much it had rained the day before. Camden’s tombstone was still damp.

“Anyway, I didn’t really want to talk about Dad, or Mom, for that matter. I’m sure you can see I’m a lot different now. I’ve changed, and that’s brought a whole mess of problems on its own.  
  
“But—there is one bright spot to all of this.” Isaac took a deep breath.  
  
“His name is Scott.”  
  
Isaac felt the blood rushing to his face as he cringed with the admission. He could just imagine the scandalized face Camden would’ve given him.  
  
“I know I made a promise. When you got back, you were gonna help me tell Mom and Dad together… Technically, you never came back, so…”  
  
Isaac shook his head and forced a bitter laugh. “That’s fucked up, I know. I’m sorry, it wasn’t your fault.  
  
“Aside from the werewolf thing, Scott’s a lot like you, actually. He’s got a big heart, he works with animals, he’s always looking out for the little guy. He’s extremely loyal; he always tries to do the right thing, even when the odds are stacked against him.  
  
“I know, he sounds like a real stud, right?” Isaac laughed. “I don’t know. He’s on the lacrosse team with me. He’s got a great sense of humor, and there’s this adorable dopey quality about him. I guess with all this crazy supernatural stuff happening, you have to laugh about it.”  
  
Isaac sighed. “Of course, he’s in love with somebody else.” He hung his head and started rubbing his hair nervously. “God, I should’ve known better. What was I thinking? He’s probably the only friend I have, and I just had to go screw it all up.  
  
“I’ve been staying at his house. Awkward, right? We haven’t talked about it; I’ve been mostly avoiding him the whole day. I just hope I haven’t totally screwed up our friendship.”  
  
“Isaac?”  
  
Isaac spun around halfway, started. It was Scott.  
  
Boy, snuck up on? What a terrible werewolf Isaac was.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
  
“It’s OK.”  
  
“Mind if I sit, or did you wanna be alone right now?”  
  
 Isaac took a deep breath before setting the flowers down on the tombstone. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

 

* * *

  
  
_Scott thinks about Isaac_  
  
Scott found Isaac’s ability to disappear annoying, yet enviable. They hardly spoke a word to each other after the kiss, and given that Isaac was gone by the time he awoke the next morning, Scott knew he had his work cut out for him.  
  
Looking back on it, Scott realized he should’ve tried harder to clear the air with Isaac. Granted, Scott was a little freaked out by the kiss, but if it wasn’t a big deal, he should’ve acted like it.  
  
Was it a big deal?  
  
That was the question Scott struggled with during school. He had never received that kind of—attention before. Shouldn’t he be flattered? Wasn’t that supposed to be, like, a rite of passage or something?  
  
He had no idea that Isaac was into dudes. Aside from Danny and Ethan, Scott knew nobody else personally who was gay, but he knew they were definitely at school and it really wasn’t a big deal at all that they were. Or was it?  
  
He probably shouldn’t make any assumptions. He had no idea what it was like to be gay, let alone to come out of the closet. Until now, Scott had had only a vague sense of what it meant to come out—now, he understood. People made assumptions. He’d assumed Isaac was straight, and it took a lot to correct those assumptions. Couple that with trying to correct a lifetime’s worth of assumptions and—damn—Scott discovered a newfound respect for Danny and the other gay and lesbian kids at his school.  
  
Everyone just wants to fit in. No one wants to be an outcast. Those were harsh truths that Scott was very familiar with. Isaac was having a hard enough time already. Scott shouldn’t have made things harder for him.  
  
Yet, things still weren’t that simple. Scott liked girls, no question, and for the past year, there had been only one girl for him. Those months he’d spent with absolutely no contact with Allison were the most brutal months he’d endured so far. Sure, they might not have been together right now, but he’d made a promise to her, and that was a promise he would see through until the end.  
  
So why _was_ Isaac’s kiss such a big deal? Scott had come to see Isaac as a good friend. He definitely cared about him, and they had helped each other out of many sticky situations. So why hadn’t he just said, “I’m flattered, but I just don’t see you that way,” last night?  
  
Could he be attracted to Isaac? There were plenty of attractive guys at school, but Scott had never felt a modicum (word of the day) of desire for any of them. What made Isaac different?  
  
Scott couldn’t help but replay in his mind that moment when Isaac showed up in his room, soaked. It took him a while to put it into words, but Scott eventually came to the conclusion that seeing Isaac like that was like trying to coax a lost, scared puppy out of a thunderstorm. He’d just wanted to dry him off and cuddle with him to keep him warm.  
  
 _Cuddle?_ The thought struck Scott in the middle of English and he’d burst out laughing in the middle of Ms. Blake’s lecture. Now _that_ was awkward, but not as awkward as Scott admitting to himself that the idea of cuddling with Isaac appealed to him. You could probably get away with a lot of things, but intentionally cuddling with another dude had to be pretty gay.  
  
Did that make Scott gay? The question itself didn’t freak him out so much—it was the fact that, for the first time in his life, he was unsure of the answer.  
  
As much as it might’ve freaked him out, Scott wasn’t going to run away from this. He owed that much to Isaac, even if he was deliberately avoiding Scott. When Isaac didn’t show for cross country practice, Scott had had enough. He had to find Isaac. He had to clear the air.  
  
He had to find out how he really felt about Isaac.


	5. Scott and Isaac talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, but average chapter lengths get longer as we go on.

“You know, you weren’t supposed to overhear most of that.”  
  
“Most of it?”  
  
“Any of it.”  
  
Scott smiled as he gingerly approached Isaac and sat beside him. “I swear, I didn’t eavesdrop on anything. The most I heard was something about screwing up a friendship. I’d hate to be narcissistic, but I’m guessing that was about us?”  
  
Isaac smiled. “Word of the day?”  
  
Blushing, Scott shrugged. “Yeah. But, that’s why I’m here—to make sure our friendship isn’t screwed up.”  
  
“You really mean that?”  
  
“Yes.” Scott looked over the tombstone. Given the name and the dates, he was pretty sure Isaac was visiting his older brother—but he didn’t want to assume anything.  
  
“Was Camden your brother?”  
  
Isaac nodded. “Killed in action. Afghanistan.”  
  
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is your dad around here, too?”  
  
Isaac shook his head. “No, he was cremated.”  
  
“Oh. What happened to his ashes?”  
  
“I haven’t decided, yet.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
As an awkward silence fell between them, Scott used the moment to practice something he hadn’t intentionally done in a long time—sniffing out someone’s emotions. He’d been so used to tuning out his sense of smell because most everything at school smelled horrible, and only the most intense smells really got to him: the burned chili-cheese fries served every other day for lunch, the musty locker-room stink, the moldy sandwich or something coming from one of the lockers close to his.  
  
It didn’t take him long to discern how Isaac was feeling. The bitter, lemony smell reeked of sad, and Scott hadn’t smelled that kind of sadness since Allison broke up with him a few months earlier. Isaac’s sad smell was laced with a peppery hint of anger, or frustration, with the moldy smell of despair.  
  
Oh, Isaac.  
  
“Are you sniffing me?” Isaac exclaimed.  
  
Scott recoiled. “No! Kinda.”  
  
“Don’t you know what I smell like by now?”  
  
“No. I mean, yeah, I do. I was just trying to figure out how you were feeling.”  
  
Isaac regarded him quizzically. “We can do that by smell? Since when?”  
  
Scott was indignant. “Derek hasn’t taught you that?”  
  
“Well, for other stuff, yeah; hunting, tracking, whatever—but not for emotions.”  
  
“Dude, that’s like, part of werewolf one-oh-one.”  
  
“Derek likes to take a lot of shortcuts. Most of them involve negative reinforcement and broken bones.”  
  
Scott became furious. Derek should’ve known better, especially given Isaac’s history. Then again, he wasn’t really surprised. It’s not like Scott himself wasn’t making this up as he went along.  
  
“I could teach you, if you wanted. Or, at least, try.”  
  
“I dunno. That feels like cheating, almost.”

“And the other stuff we can already do isn’t, technically?”  
  
Scott knew Isaac was dodging him. It was clear that Isaac didn’t open up very easily. Did he have anyone to talk to about these things? Anyone— _alive?_  
  
Oh, Isaac. Scott just wanted to give him a big bear hug.  
  
“I suppose you’re right.”  
  
“Come on, Isaac. You can talk to me. I might be able to smell how you’re feeling, but I can’t read your mind.”  
  
“If you could,” Isaac uttered, “you probably wouldn’t be here right now.”  
  
“What do you mean by that? Do you think I’d be weirded out if you liked me? Like, _like_ liked me?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“Well, I’m here to tell you that I’m not. So you can stop avoiding me, or running away from me, or whatever you’re trying to do. I’m your friend. I’m here for you.”  
  
A grateful look swept Isaac’s face, but that bitter, lemony smell only intensified. “I don’t think you’d understand.”  
  
“Try me. Are you afraid I’m gonna tell people? I won’t, if that’s what you want. But you shouldn’t care what people think, dude. Seriously. Look at Danny!”  
  
“And how many people like Danny do you know at school, huh?” Isaac snapped. “Or Ethan?”  
  
“Well, I’m sure there are a lot more people than Danny. Just because I can’t name them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”  
  
“Danny was best friends with one of the most popular guys at school. First line on the lacrosse team.”

“Why are you comparing yourself to Danny? You’re on the team, too.”  
  
“You brought him up!”  
  
Scott sighed. “I’m trying to say—it’s not a big deal if you’re into dudes, Isaac. Seriously!” When Isaac continued to shake his head, Scott went on, “OK, it’s hard. It’s tough. Everyone has to go through it their own way, I get that.”  
  
When he met continued silence, Scott stood up and stretched to work out his jitters. “Please, Isaac. If you don’t say something, I’m just gonna keep talking, and talking, and talking. Please say something.”  
  
Isaac stared at the ground. “Something.”  
  
“Ugh!” Scott cried out. “Why are you being like this? Can’t you meet me halfway, or something? I’m really trying here, dude!”  
  
“I didn’t ask you to.”  
  
Looking down at Isaac like this, Scott couldn’t help but think of him as a puppy again. A stubborn puppy. A stubborn, adorable puppy he was trying to housetrain. An annoying, lovable puppy who kept peeing on the carpet.  
  
“You kissed me, Isaac.”  
  
It was so very, very subtle, but Scott could see Isaac cringe. Much more noticeable was the sharp, metallic smell of shame emanating off Isaac’s skin. Even more obvious was the blood reddening his entire face.  
  
Despite Isaac’s embarrassment, Scott pressed him, because he shouldn’t be ashamed about this. “Why did you do it?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“Do you like me, like that?” No answer. Scott knelt back down beside Isaac. “Do you like me as more than a friend?”  
  
Isaac covered his face and started to tremble. “It doesn’t matter,” Isaac whispered. “It doesn’t matter.” As he began to cry, Scott felt a swell of anguish, but when he tried to take Isaac’s shoulder, Isaac sprung to his feet.  
  
 _“DON’T—TOUCH ME!”_  
  
Scott tumbled back against the ground, the shock making him spasm. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so genuinely scared like that.  
  
“Scott…Scott, I’m sorry.” Isaac rubbed his eyes and tried to speak through the sobs. “I don’t like guys. I don’t like girls. I don’t know what I am. All I know is that you’re the first person I’ve ever felt anything for. And I know none of that’s going to make a difference—because I know you don’t feel the same way for me.”  
  
Isaac sniffed hard and swallowed his tears. “So let’s just get this part over with and move on with our lives, OK?”  
  
Scott looked up at Isaac and marveled at how he could seem so tall, yet so small at the same time.  
  
“How do you know how I feel, Isaac? You don’t know how to sniff out emotions, yet. You’re not psychic, are you?”  
  
Isaac shot Scott a harsh look, its meaning clarified by a burst of peppery fury. “Don’t toy with me, Scott.”  
  
Scott met his glare with a grin. He couldn’t help but relish seeing Isaac so flustered and leapt towards him to close the space between them. Now it was Scott’s turn to surprise him.  
  
“You shouldn’t make assumptions,” Scott said, pulling him close and gazing up at him. “You know what happens when you assume, right?”  
  
As Isaac continued to tremble, the smoky scent of his emotions gave way to a tangy, sweet smell of cake. Scott knew that smell all too well—it lurked beneath all the other pungent scents of the boy’s locker room because, let’s face it, sex was always on the mind of the teenage boy.  
  
“How do you feel about me, then?” Isaac asked.  
  
“I feel like—I feel like I’d like to find out…”


	6. Isaac and Scott get physical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! As a treat, an early update. Note: rating goes up slightly in this chapter.

Isaac tried really hard not to question things. He didn’t question Scott’s challenge of racing him home, or why he sprinted after him with hardly a moment’s thought. Isaac was fueled by an exhilarating sense of joy, something he’d not felt in a long time, and he was determined to beat Scott home. He swore he’d kept on Scott’s tail the whole time, and when the McCall house came into view, Isaac scaled the front facade in a single leap.  
  
Yet, by the time he got the window to Scott’s room open and tumbled inside, Scott was already on his bed. He was smiling at Isaac, suppressing a laugh, while Isaac lay sprawled out on the floor to catch his breath. Scott was barely winded.  
  
“You cheated,” Isaac remarked.  
  
“I did not. You’re just slow.”  
  
Isaac gazed at Scott while trying to suppress his own smile. Scott was just sitting on the bed, hands out to his sides, legs straight in front of him, waiting. He looked so adorable. Isaac didn’t know what to do with himself. He tried sniffing him out, but he could not discern anything useful. The whole room smelled of Scott, Scott, Scott—that sweet, earthy scent, almost like pine—and that only made Isaac all the more aroused. His erection began to claw impatiently at his jeans.  
  
“What are you doing?” Isaac asked.  
  
Scott grinned. “I dunno. What are _you_ doing?”  
  
Isaac laughed despite himself. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”  
  
Scott shrugged. “I’m not gonna do all the work for you, Isaac. What do you want?”  
  
“I don’t know what I want.”  
  
“Come here, then.”  
  
Isaac sprang to his feet and crawled atop the bed over Scott in a burst of werewolf speed. Isaac found himself mere inches from Scott’s face, but he dared not come any closer as Scott’s scent nearly overwhelmed him. Isaac kept still, but as he began to tremble, he could hear Scott’s heartbeat. Despite his coy demeanor, Scott’s heart rate was picking up fast.  
  
“Are you sure about this?” Isaac asked.  
  
“No. But you should know me by now: I’m hardly ever sure about anything.”  
  
“I don’t—I don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.”  
  
“Have you done this before?” Scott smiled.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Neither have I. With a guy, at least.”  
  
“I haven’t done this with anyone.”  
  
Isaac hovered above Scott. All he could think about was how good Scott smelled. He was pretty sure he was getting off from Scott’s scent alone.  
  
“Why don’t you start by—touching me?”  
  
Isaac flushed. “Where?”  
  
“Anywhere you like.”  
  
Isaac brought his hand to Scott’s chest and felt a spark surge through him with the contact. He felt down to Scott’s abdomen—those lovely, smooth, and defined abs—and thought back to all those times he had forced himself not to look at Scott in the locker room. It was all so incredibly taboo that Isaac almost lost himself in the thrill. No—he would remain in control. He would only do what Scott asked him to do.  
  
“How does that feel?” Isaac whispered.  
  
“It tickles.” Isaac pulled his hand away. “Don’t stop,” Scott chided.  
  
At the same time, Scott brought both of his hands up against Isaac’s shoulders. Was Scott trying to keep him away? Or—was he trying to bring Isaac closer?  
  
“Do you wanna kiss me?” Scott asked.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Isaac was shocked when Scott pulled him in even closer. Their lips met and their noses crashed into each other, but thankfully, Scott assumed control and tilted his head as he began to knead Isaac’s lips with his. Fear paralyzed Isaac, but instinct quickly thawed his confusion. Scott expertly coaxed Isaac along, and as his tender warmth soothed Isaac’s fear, Isaac began to respond in kind.  
  
Isaac had fantasized about Scott’s lips before. He had fantasized about them— _a lot._ Of all the parts of Scott that Isaac wished to touch, to feel, to see, to _taste,_ Isaac had deemed Scott’s lips hardest to get to. Scott might’ve let him see him naked, perhaps even let Isaac go down on him. Only in his wildest dreams did Isaac ever imagine Scott kissing him like this.  
  
It was _so_ intimate. Scott cradled Isaac’s head as if he were trying to keep him from pulling back or floating away. Not that Isaac had any intention of pulling back. Although part of him was scared out of his wits, Isaac was savoring every moment of slick contact, each tug and pull and caress of Scott’s lips. Isaac couldn’t get over how sweet Scott tasted, too, whether it was some candy he’d eaten earlier or if his lips were simply magic. They sure felt like it.  
  
Scott started teasing him with his tongue and Isaac nearly wolfed out right then. Scott nudged him back slightly; Isaac started gasping to catch his breath.  
  
“Are you all right?” Scott asked.  
  
Isaac nodded eagerly. “More than all right. Oh God.”  
  
“Am I making you feel good?”  
  
“The best I’ve felt my whole life.”  
  
Scott grinned. “Good.”  
  
Isaac cried out when Scott flipped him over. Now that Scott was on top of him, Isaac was swathed in a burst of heat that nearly made him giddy. He felt the full brunt of Scott’s weight on him and it drove Isaac absolutely wild.  
  
Before Isaac could say anything, though, Scott plunged towards him and their lips met once more. Scott’s kisses became steadily more ravenous and Isaac was eager to match his intensity with every growing presence of tongue. Isaac wrapped his arms around Scott and that brought everything to an even deeper level of intimacy. To hold Scott like this was, literally, a dream come true.  
  
Scott paused and rested his forehead on Isaac’s to speak. “I can’t believe how good this feels,” he gasped.  
  
“Yeah?” Isaac could believe it. He knew it would feel amazing. He just wasn’t expecting it to be _this_ amazing.  
  
“I’m so hard right now.”  
  
Isaac’s heart skipped a beat. Or two. Several; he was pretty sure it stopped altogether. “No way,” was all he could muster.  
  
“Can’t you feel it?” Scott began to grind against him.  
  
Now—to know Scott was as into it as Isaac was, to feel their mutual erections through the stubborn, horrible, godforsaken denim separating them—that was too much for Isaac. He was speechless as Scott continued grinding against him. Already, sparks were flying, and this was a dive into a pool of gasoline.  
  
“Oh God, oh, fuck—Scott… I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”  
  
Scott didn’t stop in time, but Isaac knew what was going to happen before he opened his mouth. Incoherent and involuntary groans escaped Isaac as the orgasm exploded through his body and began filling his jeans with come. He felt it seep past the band of his underwear as the shards of his ecstasy surged through his body.  
  
He only realized he’d been clutching Scott—holding onto him for dear life—as the orgasm gradually subsided and Isaac regained control of his body and his voice. He also realized he’d shut his eyes, and when he opened them, he found Scott before him with that adorable, dopey grin on his face.  
  
“Dude, are you OK?”  
  
Isaac couldn’t readily speak. For a moment, he could only nod. “More than OK.”  
  
“Did you…?” Before Isaac could answer, Scott’s eyes lit up. He seemed flabbergasted. “Holy shit, you did!”  
  
For as amazing as it felt, Isaac was quickly starting to feel embarrassed. “I—I didn’t mean to do that. I couldn’t control it.”  
  
Scott wouldn’t stop grinning. “I can’t believe I made you do that.”  
  
His grin vanished. In an instant, he seemed panicked. “Dude, my mom’s home!”  
  
Isaac sat up with Scott and shot off the bed. What a terrible werewolf Isaac was—he’d heard absolutely nothing!  
  
“Isaac, go wash up—hurry!”  
  
Scott sprang out of the room, but Isaac didn’t need to be told twice. Once in Scott’s bathroom, he stripped off his shirt and yanked off his jeans. Just as he’d suspected, his boxer briefs were totally soaked from his (over)excitement. Worse still, he wasn’t completely soft.  
  
“Ugh, stubborn,” Isaac muttered.  
  
He slid off his underwear and briskly rinsed himself and the underwear off in the sink before peeking outside the bathroom and grabbing a spare pair of underwear from his duffle bag. His shirt was stained, too, but his jeans were OK, so he put them back on and slid on another shirt. Once dressed, his shook his head, hard, to clear all the lascivious thoughts from his mind before he went downstairs to greet Mrs. McCall.  
  
A gnawing anxiety took hold in the pit of his stomach as he left the room and all the questions he’d suppressed from earlier came flooding out. Was Scott into guys, too? Was he just messing around? Was he just teasing Isaac? Could he be bi? Was this just a one-time thing?  
  
Just what the hell were he and Scott doing?


	7. Scott tries to get Isaac to open up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating goes up significantly in this chapter.

Scott could sense some of the tension return to Isaac’s shoulders as he came down the stairs. Isaac had reassumed his nonchalant demeanor in front of his mom as he helped them prepare dinner, but even as they sat next to each other during the meal, Scott felt Isaac pulling away. The mishmash of emotions Scott read from him reflected his own confusion.  
  
Before Isaac, Scott’s mom always had to ask him to do the dishes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do them—he would just forget. There was always something else he had to do. Now, his mom had to remind Isaac he didn’t have to do the dishes because he was their guest, but Isaac would always insist.  
  
Scott understood. He knew Isaac didn’t want to overstay his welcome, so of course, he would do anything to make himself useful. Even if it meant doing all of Scott’s chores. He’d joked with Isaac that he was making him look bad, but Isaac insisted that he didn’t mind, that he had his back. When Scott tried to convince him that he _was_ going to do his chores, Isaac had stumped him with a simple question.  
  
“When?”  
  
Well, he didn’t want Isaac to see him as a flake, so he stayed with Isaac as his mom left them to do the dishes.  
  
“Isaac, you don’t have to do the dishes,” his mom said as she stood. “I have the night off. I’ll take care of them later.”  
  
Isaac smiled as he gathered the plates. “I really don’t mind. You have enough on your plate; you should enjoy your night off.”  
  
His mom gave Scott a smile, her telling, short-story-in-a-smile smile. Isaac could definitely stay for as long as he wanted. Scott tried not to smile back at his mom since she was also eyeing him to shape up, but the thought of Isaac staying here made Scott really, really happy.  
  
As Isaac filled one side the sink with lather, Scott took Isaac’s shoulder, hoping it would relieve some of the tension. Isaac only tensed further.  
  
“Isaac,” Scott whispered, “I’m sorry we got interrupted like that. We’ll talk tonight, OK? Promise me you won’t clam up again.”  
  
Isaac nodded. “I won’t.”  
  
When some of the tension in his shoulders finally released, Scott patted Isaac’s back and started rinsing off some of the dishes.  
  
“Scott!” his mom called. She was upstairs.  
  
“Yeah?” Scott called back.  
  
“Can I talk to you for a second?”  
  
When Isaac shot him a panicked look, Scott shook his head. “It’s fine.” He dried off his hands and made for the stairs. “I’ll be right up!”  
  
Several unsettling possibilities flew through Scott’s mind as he trotted up the stairs. Could his mom somehow smell the naughtiness he and Isaac had been engaged in earlier? Was there a big stain on his bed? Did he forget something his mom had asked?  
  
His mom was standing outside his room, arms crossed. Uh oh.  
  
“Scott.”  
  
“Yes…Mom?”  
  
“Your window is open.”  
  
Scott let out a quick breath as he looked at the open window in his room.  
  
“You didn’t decide to take a shortcut and bound up the front of the house again, did you?”  
  
Scott had been practicing one day, only to have his mom pull into the driveway just as he was attempting another leap. She’d been pissed.  
  
“Or was it Isaac?”  
  
Scott shook his head. “No, it was me, sorry. I’m sorry. I was trying to race him home.”  
  
His mom pursed her lips. “In broad daylight? Do you really think no one will ever see you doing that?”  
  
He hung his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”  
  
She took his shoulders. “I don’t want you getting into trouble, sweetie. Especially not _that_ kind of trouble. Isaac needs some stability, some time away from all this—supernatural. And so do you.”  
  
Scott swallowed. “We are. We were just—having some fun.”  
  
His mom smiled. “Isaac is such a sweet boy. I’m glad he has you to look out for him. Just—do try to keep him out of trouble, all right?”  
  
Scott nodded. “I will.”  
  
She rubbed his arm and patted him away. “And stop letting him do all your chores, mister!”  
  
“I won’t!”  
  
When Scott rejoined Isaac in the kitchen, he could see the back of Isaac’s neck practically burning.  
  
“You didn’t have to cover for me like that. I should’ve taken responsibility for my mistake.”  
  
Well, at least Derek taught him how to eavesdrop. “You didn’t know. It wasn’t your fault, anyway. Besides, she was more worried than pissed.”  
  
Isaac smiled at him. “That you were being a bad influence on me?”  
  
Chuckling, Scott said, “Something like that.”  
  
Isaac bumped his hip against Scott’s. “I happen to like the influence you’re having on me.” His eyes flashed amber, which made a warm, tender feeling manifest in Scott’s stomach.  
  
As Isaac blinked and shook his head, he turned back to the sink and pulled out another dish for Scott to rinse. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”  
  
Scott didn’t know what to say, so they ended up finishing the rest of the dishes in silence. After all the dishes had been set on a rack to dry, they headed up to Scott’s room.  
  
“I have to use the bathroom,” Isaac said quickly.  
  
So Scott sat on his bed and patted his lap as he waited for Isaac. The room still smelled heavily of Isaac’s—happiness. Scott looked around the bed to see if it was perhaps stained before he saw Isaac’s underwear sitting on top of the duffle bag in Isaac’s self-relegated corner of the room. Why Isaac felt the need to keep all his stuff balled up in just one part of the room, Scott had no idea. Was Isaac staying prepared in case he had to leave in a hurry?  
  
Isaac’s happy smell was making Scott aroused, holy crap, and he realized something. Whenever he was with Allison, Scott had always been sure to be on his best behavior when it came to his bodily functions. With Stiles, Scott didn’t give a crap, and he regularly burped and farted with abandon when he hung out with him. Since Isaac was also a guy, he’d done the same thing, although not as blatantly as he did with Stiles.  
  
He realized several things, actually. That Isaac still liked him in spite of his blatant machoism intrigued Scott, and he wondered if he needed to be more—appropriate around Isaac. Something felt wrong about comparing Isaac to Allison, yet that was really his only frame of reference for this kind of romantic stuff. He didn’t like comparing Isaac to Stiles, either, since he had no romantic (but still possibly bromantic) feelings for his best friend, but their friendship was perhaps the best baseline he had.  
  
Surely, Isaac didn’t want Scott to treat him differently—he definitely didn’t want to be weird around Isaac—but how do you treat a relationship that he’d thought was more like a friendship with Stiles when it was really more like what he wanted with Allison?  
  
Did he still want it? Of course he did.  
  
Yet, Isaac…  
  
Isaac was taking a really long time in the bathroom. “Hey Isaac?”  
  
“Yeah?” he called through the door.  
  
“Is everything OK in there?”  
  
“Just dandy.”  
  
“You’re not hiding from me, are you?”  
  
No answer. Scott’s thoughts were winding around and around in circles and he hated talking to himself. He’d much rather talk his problems out with someone else.  
  
That’s what made those months Allison spent in France hell. And, this was probably something else Isaac had in common with Allison—he liked to run away from his problems.  
  
“You know, I can hear pretty much everything that goes on,” Scott said. “I haven’t heard anything happen, so I’m pretty sure you’re just chilling out in my bathroom.”  
  
When the toilet flushed, Scott laughed to himself. Isaac opened the door and leaned against the doorjamb with a smirk.  
  
This time, Scott stood up and approached Isaac. “Look, I—I don’t really know what I’m doing here, but I do wanna say that it felt really, really good.”  
  
Isaac’s smirk became a full grin. “It did?”  
  
“Yeah. That’s probably the only thing I’m sure about right now.” Scott gestured to his bed. “Come on, let’s sit.”  
  
Standing made Scott nervous, so he was grateful when Isaac obliged him. When they sat, Scott tried to unjumble his thoughts.  
  
“Scott, you really don’t have to put so much pressure on yourself about this. We had fun, and it was a good time, but this doesn’t have to be the start of anything huge. It doesn’t have to start anything at all. I’ll understand if you’d rather we just forget about it and not talk about it again. I really would.”  
  
Scott gazed at Isaac. Oh, Isaac. He must’ve been so sure Scott was going to hurt him, he thought it’d be easier to inflict the wound on himself.  
  
“That’s not what I want at all.”  
  
Isaac looked back up at him. “What _do_ you want?” he whispered.  
  
Scott took a moment to take it all in. Isaac was so vulnerable and endearing, yet his heart rate was through the roof. Scott knew Isaac was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he’d mistaken that cool nonchalance for an insensitive, unemotional soul. Isaac was more than just a lost puppy. He was a big hound weathered by abuse disproportionate to his time on this earth. To anyone’s time, really.  
  
Isaac wasn’t like Stiles or Allison. Isaac was Isaac. And he cared for him very, very much.  
  
“I—I wanna see where this goes. I wanna just—keep doing what we’re doing, and not be bogged down by overthinking it or making all these assumptions. I wanna make you feel good; I wanna take care of you.”  
  
Scott looked back at his bed and couldn’t suppress the grin overtaking his cheeks. “I wanna cuddle.”  
  
Isaac burst out laughing, and Scott couldn’t help laughing with him.  
  
“I’d like that,” Isaac breathed. “I’d really like that.”  
  
Scott tried to keep himself from blushing. “We should probably do our homework first.”  
  
So they did their homework, with Isaac mostly breezing through his algebra and giving Scott a hand with his English. After they brushed and changed into their sleepwear, Isaac made a point to sprawl himself all across the bed to hog as much space as possible, which made Scott laugh.  
  
“Scoot over!” Scott rolled Isaac over and plopped himself down beside him.  
  
“Which side of the bed do you want?”  
  
“I dunno. Whichever side I get to spoon you.”  
  
Isaac grinned. “What about if I want to spoon you?”  
  
Scott grinned back. “You’ll get your turn.”  
  
After they got under the covers, Isaac rolled onto his side and Scott brought both of his arms around him. That warm, gushy feeling returned to Scott’s core as he inhaled Isaac’s minty, rustic scent. This felt good. Really good.  
  
“Uh, Scott?”  
  
Maybe too good.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Is that a flashlight in your pajamas, or are you happy to see me?”  
  
Scott laughed; he couldn’t help it. “Sorry.”  
  
“Think maybe we should—do something about it?”  
  
Scott could smell Isaac’s arousal; the sweet dessert scent was one he’d never forget. “What did you have in mind?”  
  
Isaac pushed back the covers and turned to face him. “Take off your shirt.”  
  
Scott was intrigued and further turned on by Isaac’s assertiveness. What a huge difference from earlier. “You’ve seen me without a shirt on before.”  
  
“Not like this.”  
  
Scott obeyed, and after he lifted the shirt over his head, he let it fall to the floor beside the bed.  
  
“Do you like what you see?” Scott asked, a slight smirk nudging his cheeks.  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Isaac was almost breathless. “You know how many times I had to force myself not to look at you whenever we were in the locker room?”  
  
Not look at him? Why would Isaac not let himself do that? Scott didn’t want to spoil the moment with questions.  
  
“You should take off your shirt, too.”  
  
Isaac seemed shy all of a sudden, but raised the shirt over his head nevertheless. “I’m not as ripped as you are.”  
  
Scott couldn’t follow what happened to Isaac’s shirt. All he could see before him was Isaac’s exposed torso. He was so right—Scott had seen Isaac without a shirt before, but only when pretty much everyone else was walking around shirtless. This—this was totally different.  
  
“Isaac—you look amazing.”  
  
Isaac leaned into him and whispered, “So do you,” before meeting him all the way for a kiss.  
  
Scott was still amazed by the contact, the sensation, of their lips running together like this. He had instigated it earlier, but now that Isaac was taking charge, Scott found the thrilling newness of it all to be extremely hot. Isaac was a fantastic kisser. Although Scott was initially excited and terrified of kissing a guy, now, it was just plain awesome because he was kissing—Isaac.  
  
Isaac ran his hand down Scott’s chest, and Scott nearly shuddered as Isaac felt down to his stomach. It was a strangely exhilarating feeling to be—admired like this. With Allison, Scott had always been the one to do the admiring. Now, it felt like the tables had turned.  
  
He probably shouldn’t be thinking about Allison right now. Not when Isaac’s tongue was playfully veering past Scott’s lips. Not when Isaac’s hand was sliding lower and lower down his stomach into—  
  
Holy—crap. Isaac’s hand clamped down on Scott’s erection through the pajamas, making Scott falter. Isaac did not relent, instead taking advantage of his impairment to nip on Scott’s lower lip. Scott cried out quietly, trying his best to stay quiet. It was really difficult.  
  
Isaac pulled back, though he continued to grip Scott’s shaft. “You sure we should do this with your mom, you know, in the house?”  
  
“I’ll keep quiet,” Scott whispered desperately.  
  
“You’re not really doing a good job so far,” Isaac said, grinning.  
  
A part of Scott did recall him making various grunts and utterances of pleasure as they were making out. Scott shook his head.  
  
“It’s either you do it, or I do it myself, and you can watch.”  
  
Before Isaac could respond, Scott undid the lace on his bottoms and slid his pajamas down to his ankles to expose his erection. Scott was so hard, it almost hurt, and his cock wouldn’t even lie flat against his pubes.  
  
The look on Isaac’s face was priceless. Scott so enjoyed making Isaac lose his marbles like this, and as he grabbed his erection to stroke it a few times, he was almost certain that Isaac gasped. Scott was leaking pretty seriously. He needed to come soon.  
  
“Stroke me and I’ll stroke you,” Scott uttered, reaching for Isaac’s bulge. His bottoms were egregiously tented; no way the flimsy fabric could contain that beast of a cock Isaac had.  
  
Scott had little time to fully consider his first interaction with another guy’s junk. When Isaac slid off his pajama bottoms, all Scott knew was that he had a cock, too, so he should know what to do with it. That, and it was Isaac’s cock. It was fully hard and desperate for attention. That simplified things greatly.  
  
He pulled Isaac on top of him and their lips met again as they grabbed onto each other’s shafts. Isaac gripped Scott’s erection hard and stroked slowly but decisively; it was a little harder than the way Scott usually handled himself, but that made it all the more erotic.  
  
“Harder,” Isaac breathed. “I’m not cut, you don’t have to go so easy.”  
  
Scott didn’t really understand what he meant, but he obeyed.  
  
“Oh, fuck yeah,” Isaac grunted. “Do you need lube?”  
  
Scott swallowed. “No, I don’t usually use it.”  
  
“Hot.”  
  
It was a little difficult coordinating strokes and kisses simultaneously, but Scott made do with the distractions battling his lips and his cock. He was simply engrossed in all the wonderfully warm sensations that were _Isaac_ and it didn’t take long for the tingles in his balls to spread and herald an oncoming orgasm.  
  
“Oh, God, I’m close,” Scott gasped.  
  
“Yeah? Me too.” 

“Come together?”  
  
“Fuck yeah.”  
  
Isaac quickened his strokes and Scott tried to do the same.  
  
“Oh God, oh fuck, Isaac, I’m gonna—”  
  
Isaac mashed his lips—no, his mouth, really—against Scott’s as they started to cry out simultaneously. Scott felt the explosion of ecstasy engulf his body as he started to come, and at the same time, Isaac’s load gushed across Scott’s chest. Scott clutched Isaac with his free arm and they stifled quiet but intense moans of guttural, mind-blowing pleasure. The release just felt so fucking good, Scott kept stroking; Isaac kept stroking—until both were certain that each other’s cocks had fully drained of come.  
  
Scott and Isaac held still. When Scott opened his eyes, Isaac pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. They stayed like that as they inhaled each other’s breaths. Scott didn’t know what to do, and neither did Isaac, it seemed.  
  
Isaac let go of Scott’s softening cock and sat up. Scott used the moment to take in all of Isaac’s lithe frame. He was smooth pretty much all over, but like Scott, he had a wild bush above his cock.  
  
Isaac exhaled deeply. “Wow, we made a mess.”  
  
Scott looked down at himself and, yeah, his chest and stomach were pretty much covered in jet-sprays of semen, his happiness mingling and congealing with Isaac’s.  
  
“That was fucking hot,” Scott whispered.  
  
Flashing a grin, Isaac stood up and retrieved a towel from the bathroom. He sat on the bed and toweled Scott off before cleaning himself up. When Isaac put his pajama bottoms back on, however, Scott pulled off his entirely and let them fall to the floor.  
  
“I try to sleep in the buff once in a while. Now seems like a good time.”  
  
Shrugging, Isaac stripped naked again and fell in the bed beside Scott.  
  
“Is it cuddle time, now?” Isaac asked.  
  
Scott put his arm around Isaac and held him close. “I think so.”  
  
Isaac nestled close. “Good night, Scott.”  
  
“Night.”  
  
Scott planted a kiss in Isaac’s curls before shutting his eyes. All felt right with the world, and for the first time in months, Scott was really, really happy. Where they went from here, he had no idea. But for at least one night, everything was perfect.


	8. Stiles finds out about Isaac and Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the more fun chapters to write. And I've just realized I've got a deadline. Ahh!

Isaac was having an incredible time exploring Scott’s body.  
  
A tacit agreement formed between them, imposing a new sense of urgency on cross country practices—complete the laps and drills as quickly as (super) humanly possible, and race home for the real fun. If Scott’s mom wasn’t home, and she usually wasn’t, it quickly became typical for Isaac and Scott to crash into each other like there was a black hole between them, the center of which usually orbited around their lips. Not even their clothes could resist its influence.  
  
Isaac and Scott made a point to be as naked as possible around each other, as often as possible, though it was usually restricted to nights and the afternoons after school. Scott was just such a noisy creature as they frolicked, and it drove Isaac absolutely wild. Scott would make the most adorably erotic grunts and moans and whines as they made out, as they rolled around in bed together, as they rubbed their bodies together.  
  
Isaac’s favorite science class had been anatomy, so he had a good sense of the human body and where the most sensitive areas were. There were so many things Isaac wanted to try with Scott, but he held back, not wanting to rush Scott’s foray into sex with another guy.  
  
So Isaac made it his goal to make the most of his tongue and his lips to bring Scott the most pleasure possible. Mouth to mouth was a given, but Isaac gradually ventured to other areas he knew would be nerve dense and therefore terrific erogenous zones. First he worked on Scott’s neck, the areas just under his jawline between the chin and the jugular. Whenever Isaac pressed his tongue into that sweet spot, Scott would go limp like a puppet, crying out with variations of “Oh fuck!” or “Oh God!” before disintegrating into incoherent moans.  
  
That was perhaps Isaac’s favorite spot on Scott. His ears were a close second, simply because of the utter surprise Scott seemed to feel every time Isaac pressed his tongue into Scott’s ear. Not really a wet willy, but kind of; Scott surely didn’t complain. The hottest moans so far had happened when Isaac had his tongue in Scott’s ear.  
  
He made use of his hands, naturally, but when he wasn’t stroking Scott’s erection, Isaac tended to various pressure points on Scott’s back, hips, and thighs as he made out with him or ground against him. Massaging those points stripped Scott of most of his verbal skills and were usually the quickest way to stimulate him towards climax.  
  
Isaac craved bringing Scott to near overstimulation. He couldn’t imagine ever tiring of it—the way Scott would verge on whimpering, the way his moans rose in pitch, the way every scent and emotion emanating from him begged Isaac to bring him to completion. That was when he’d clasp Scott’s cock and stroke all out, and try as Scott would, he’d usually be too far gone to coordinate stroking him back.  
  
That was OK, though. Isaac loved overwhelming Scott like that. It was more than worth it to make Scott climax without distraction, to feel his hand become slick with Scott’s come as it sprayed up his arm, up Scott’s stomach, sometimes onto Isaac’s chest if Scott came hard enough.  
  
In fact, Isaac loved Scott coming first because Scott would promptly use his come to lube up Isaac’s cock and bring him to completion. Isaac was never far behind him, and the amount of precome he leaked all while pleasuring Scott was probably enough to fill a shot glass.  
  
Then came the cuddling. Ah, Scott. He had such a hard on for cuddling (most of the time literally). Isaac was almost certain there had to be squashed teddybears hidden somewhere in the room that Scott saved for lonely nights. It was so endearing the way Scott craved physical contact. When it came down to either study time—or cuddle time—cuddle time usually won out.  
  
Isaac would never forget the time when “cuddle time” became enshrined in their vocabulary. He’d had an exam in English the next day to study for, and it was the one time when Scott had finished all his homework before him.  
  
“How important is this test?” Scott had asked, clearly trying his best not to whine.  
  
“It’s the midterm.”  
  
“Oh. OK. Well, just remember though—our cuddle time is very important.”  
  
It took Isaac every ounce of self control not to laugh. Scott was so droll sometimes, but Isaac didn’t want him to think he was laughing at him; Isaac still couldn’t think about that moment without laughing.  
  
Isaac was itching to go further with Scott. While taking his usual position on top of Scott as they settled onto Scott’s bed, he’d become convinced that Scott was ready for it.  
  
Naturally, something had to steer them off course.  
  
“So, Scott, I think I’ve figured out a new _holy mother of Jesus Mary and Joseph!”_  
  
Stiles. What an opportune time to walk in on them; Isaac on top of Scott, on Scott’s bed, making out, grinding their crotches together. At least they still had pants on.  
  
Stiles looked aghast. Scott gaped back at him. Isaac wasn’t sure what to do. Scott looked at him briefly before staring back at Stiles.  
  
Isaac couldn’t help but feel at fault. He’d made no effort to become a better werewolf; people just kept managing to sneak up on him.  
  
“I’m…” Stiles finally said, “I’m going to—to do, go, do—take care of something.” He held up his hands. “Sorry for interrupting. I had no idea I’d be walking in on something so...so...um, yeah.” After gradually moving towards the door, he spun around and fled the room.  
  
“Stiles, wait!” Scott called. He hesitated slightly, eyeing Isaac for permission, which he offered freely in spite of himself.  
  
When Scott ran out of the room, Isaac stayed behind on the bed. As he debated going after Stiles, he wondered if he really had any right to. Despite all their time hanging out over the summer, Stiles was more Scott’s friend—his best friend. He never really made an effort to get to know Stiles, either.  
  
So he was surprised when Scott and Stiles walked back into the room. Isaac took it upon himself to put his shirt back on, which led Scott to do the same. Meanwhile, Stiles seemed to be on the verge of laughter.  
  
“This—this is incredible,” Stiles began. “I can’t believe it. Seriously, you guys, this can wait. Don’t take it upon yourselves to stop just because of little ol’ me.” He faced Scott. “You know, your best friend.”  
  
“Stiles,” Scott said.  
  
“Seriously, I—I don’t have a problem with this.” Stiles gestured towards Isaac and Scott. _“This._ You two.” He turned back to Scott. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
Scott sighed. “I just—didn’t really get a chance to. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”  
  
“Well, if it wasn’t, you should’ve said something. Instead of just blowing me off like back when you were with Allison. Actually, this all kind of makes sense now.”  
  
“What was I supposed to say?”  
  
“Oh, heck, I don’t know. How about, ‘Hey, Stiles. So, I like guys, too.’ Would that have been so hard? I mean, just a little heads up would’ve been nice!”  
  
“But I _don’t_ like guys.”  
  
Isaac and Stiles glanced at each other. He was sure Stiles caught it, too, but Isaac was bothered by how forceful Scott said it.  
  
“I mean,” Scott added, “I like Isaac. There’s a difference.”  
  
Stiles threw up his hands. “Isaac’s a guy. Aren’t you?”  
  
Isaac nodded, trying not to smile. “I’m pretty sure.”  
  
“Isaac is a guy. You like Isaac. Ergo, you like guys.”  
  
Scott sat at his desk and huffed. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”  
  
“Scott, I’m not judging you, here. I just—I just wish that you felt that you could have told me about this. Did you really think I wouldn’t be OK with this? I mean, how long has this been going on? Are you guys together, or just messing around?”  
  
Scott looked at Isaac, clearly desperate for some help. Isaac was saddened by the guilt that began to weigh down Scott’s shoulders.  
  
“We hadn’t really had time to talk about it,” Isaac interjected. “We’ve just been—getting to know each other in a new way.”  
  
“All right, all right,” Stiles said. “I can definitely take a hint.” He made to leave.  
  
“Stiles,” Scott said, standing up to halt him, “please don’t tell anyone about this. Isaac…we—don’t really need any pressure right now with people gossiping and judging.”  
  
Stiles nodded slowly. “I gotcha. Yeah, definitely—I’ll keep my mouth shut. Totally not a problem.” He went around Scott and promptly left.  
  
Scott sat beside Isaac, offering a meek smile.  
  
“How is Stiles with secrets?” Stiles had kept Isaac’s secret from Scott, but now that the pressure had doubled, Isaac wasn’t sure if that changed anything.  
  
“For the most part, OK. With this kind of thing, he’ll just keep trying to hold it in until he just blurts it out. I give it two days, tops.” Scott took Isaac’s hand. “I guess we couldn’t keep this a secret forever.”  
  
Isaac squeezed his hand. “I really don’t have a problem with people knowing about us.”  
  
He knew Scott knew that. He just couldn’t bring himself to ask Scott why he didn’t want people to know.  
  
“I just…I wanna tell my mom first.”  
  
Isaac wasn’t expecting that. “She’ll be home later, won’t she?”  
  
Scott made a face, like he’d just swallowed a whole lemon. “Not tonight. Not yet—please?”  
  
Isaac nodded. “Sure, sure.”  
  
Scott ran his other hand over Isaac’s thigh. “Do you still feel like, you know…? I’d hate to miss some of our cuddle time.”  
  
Isaac grinned. God damn it, Scott McCall could be so damn cute sometimes. He leaned against Scott until they were both back against the bed.  
  
“Don’t worry. I know how important our cuddle time is.”  
  
Their lips met again, and it was like they had just gotten home.  
  
The next day, Isaac couldn’t help thinking about the conversation between Scott and Stiles. Isaac hadn’t pushed Scott to talk about anything that night, so he was disappointed to wake up and not feel any better about how Stiles had found out about them.  
  
Isaac had mixed feelings about how he was affecting Scott’s friendship with Stiles. The time Scott was spending with Isaac was clearly time not spent with Stiles, and while Isaac loved spending time with Scott, he didn’t want to monopolize his time.  
  
He also felt bad about Scott lying to Stiles by omission, but there really wasn’t much Isaac could’ve done there. He and Scott hadn’t taken the time to discuss where their relationship was going, and they couldn’t skirt around that forever.  
  
As Isaac was making his way towards his locker just before English, he spotted Boyd waiting for him. Isaac braced for the encounter; they hadn’t really hung out since Derek kicked him out of the loft.  
  
“Isaac,” Boyd greeted.  
  
“Boyd.”  
  
“I’ll make this quick: Stiles seemed to be acting stranger than usual today, so I figured he found out what I already knew. I just had to ask—do you really think that’s a good idea, what you’re doing?”  
  
Isaac was speechless, but he opened his locker and began gathering his things like nothing was wrong. “What do you mean, exactly?”  
  
“Look, you and McCall stink of each other. I mean, absolutely _reek_ of each other. Not like two people just sharing a house together, if you know what I mean, so it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.”  
  
Isaac took a deep breath and shut his locker to face Boyd. “Do you have a problem with that?”  
  
“No, I don’t. I’m just wondering if you’ve thought this through. You do know he’s still in love with Allison, right?”  
  
Isaac swallowed, trying his best not to react to the pang spreading through his core. Isaac knew, but—where the hell was Boyd getting his information? Had Derek perhaps become a better teacher, so that Boyd was picking up new skills?  
  
Maybe he was just the better werewolf. Maybe that was why Derek kept him around.  
  
Boyd patted Isaac’s arm. “Look, man, I’m just saying, I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. It’s hard to fill a cup that’s already full.”  
  
When Boyd left, Isaac noticed Allison chatting with Lydia down the hall. Of course she had to be there at that very moment.  
  
Isaac understood. Allison was extremely beautiful. She was confident, sexy. He could see why Scott fell for her. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Isaac was jealous of her. Jealous, and—afraid. No doubt she was deadly with a bow and she could still kick his ass hand-to-hand with knives— _correction,_ Chinese ring daggers—but that wasn’t the only reason he was scared of her. She had an influence over Scott that no one else had. She had touched Scott in ways that Isaac probably never would. And, in just one fell swoop, she could take away everything he’d ever cared about—everything he had left.  
  
When Allison made eye contact with him, Isaac immediately looked away and turned the other way for English.  
  
Isaac’s mood had quickly soured and only became worse as the day went on. Naturally, Stiles had to make things better just before history, his last period of the day. He manifested out of thin air just as Isaac shut his locker.  
  
“Jesus Christ!” Isaac exclaimed.  
  
Stiles regarded him, confused. “Dude, how did I sneak up on you? You’re a werewolf for Pete’s sake.”  
  
Isaac glared at him. “What do you want, Stiles?”  
  
“Look, I wanted to talk to you.”  
  
“I’m listening.”  
  
Stiles rubbed his hair. “I know that I—didn’t react that well to you and Scott yesterday, and I’m sorry. I was really surprised by it, that’s all, and Scott had been kind of out of touch lately, so I thought I’d just surprise him, and, well, you know the rest.”  
  
“You don’t—really have to apologize to me. Weren’t you the one practically trying to set us up all summer, though?”  
  
Stiles nodded. “Yeah, but—I never thought it’d actually happen. I figured once you told Scott and got it out of your system and worked past it, everything would be fine instead of, you know, being a recluse and pulling away.”  
  
“Get it out of my system?”  
  
Stiles shrugged. “I saw it back then—something was clearly eating away at you, and it wasn’t just Boyd and Erica leaving. I kind of have a trained eye for these things—you know, pining.”  
  
“I wasn’t pining.”  
  
“Whatever. Look, I didn’t come to argue. I just—wanted to ask you: Have you talked about his tattoo?”  
  
“Tattoo?”  
  
“Yes, the tattoo—the monstrosity winding around his bicep—that tattoo. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it.”  
  
“No, I have noticed it. What about it?”  
  
“Do you know why he got it?” Isaac shook his head. “Really, none at all?”  
  
“No.”  
  
The look of pity Stiles gave Isaac perturbed him greatly. “Look, Scott’s my best friend. I love him to death, but he—he doesn’t always think things through. It’s probably not my place to tell you this but, well, screw it.  
  
“Scott made a promise to Allison after all the stuff with Jackson and her grandfather went down. Even though she dumped him, Scott promised her that he’d wait for her. Fast forward a few months, Scott wants to get a tattoo, and—I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”  
  
Isaac couldn’t breathe. The pang he’d felt earlier with Boyd returned with a vengeance.  
  
“Scott got that tattoo for Allison?”  
  
Stiles hesitated. “Not exactly. You should definitely talk to Scott, all right? It all just can’t be about sex.”  
  
When Stiles walked off, he uttered, “Is everyone getting laid but me?”  
  
Isaac’s throat had clamped shut and he found himself trembling. Just who was he kidding? He’d never had a chance with Scott.  
  
Ever.  
  
Isaac did his best to survive history, and since nothing the teacher said took, Isaac knew he wouldn’t make it through cross country practice. Not with Scott around.  
  
Although he didn’t want to go back to Scott’s house, he knew Scott would just hunt him down. So he waited for Scott, and couldn’t help but be touched by how quickly the buzz of Scott’s scooter came into the driveway. He was in the house and running up the steps in barely ten seconds.  
  
“Dude, Isaac! There you are! What happened to you at practice?”  
  
It smelled like Scott had skipped showering and Isaac felt a bit of unwanted energy flow towards his crotch. God help him, he was perpetually turned on by Scott.  
  
Isaac remained on the bed and crossed his legs. As he gazed at Scott, everything he wanted to say rushed through his mind at once, yet none of it made it past his tongue. Scott came and sat beside him, his lower lip protruding. He pouted harder and harder until Isaac burst out laughing.  
  
“Stop making faces at me!” Isaac said, nudging Scott away.  
  
Scott persisted, moving closer still, as Isaac willed his simmering erection to go away. Part of Isaac wondered if Scott was doing it on purpose.  
  
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen or smelled you so sad. What happened?” Isaac said nothing. “Please, talk to me,” Scott went on. “If this is going to work, we’ve got to be able to talk to each other, even if we think the other person’s not going to like it.”  
  
Isaac took a deep breath. “What is _this_ , exactly? What are we doing, here?”  
  
Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re—getting to know each other. We’re having fun. We’re spending a lot of time together. Would you…would you disagree with that?”  
  
Isaac shook his head. “No.”  
  
“What did you want to talk about? What’s got you so down?”  
  
“It doesn’t matter.”  
  
Scott took his hand. “Isaac. Please.”  
  
Isaac pointed to the black bands circling Scott’s bicep. “What made you decide to get that tattoo?”  
  
He remembered the first time he’d asked Scott about it—Scott had merely brushed off the question, saying he’d just thought it looked cool, and that Stiles hated it, but then they got sidetracked.  
  
Isaac swallowed. “Don’t lie. I’ll know.”  
  
Scott rubbed Isaac’s arm. “You’re bluffing,” he said quietly, “but don’t worry. I’ll teach you.”  
  
Such a terrible, terrible werewolf.  
  
Scott exhaled deeply. “I’m guessing Stiles talked to you.”  
  
“Don’t be mad at him.”  
  
“I’m not. Believe me. He’s a really good friend. Better than I am, most days. But, about the tattoo, I wanted to get it for a few reasons. Yes, Allison was part of it, but she’s not the only reason.  
  
“OK, she might’ve been the biggest reason, but I didn’t get it _for_ her, exactly. I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo. I was originally going to wait until I turned eighteen, but I got it now as a sort of—reward.”  
  
“A reward for what?”  
  
Scott took a deep breath. “For—surviving. Surviving Gerard and Jackson. Surviving the bite, Derek, and all this werewolf stuff.”  
  
“Surviving Allison breaking up with you?”  
  
Scott looked at him. “Are you sure you wanna hear this?”  
  
Isaac forced a smile. “We’ve got to be able to talk to each other. Even if we think the other person isn’t going to like it. Besides—I’ve had worse.”  
  
Scott sighed. “The months after Allison dumped me, with no contact whatsoever, were the hardest months of my life. I wanted to do something to—to mark how far I’d come. I wanted it to be a symbol for…for the hurt I was still feeling over Allison. In Samoan, tattoo means, ‘open wound.’ It seemed really appropriate at the time.”  
  
The back of Isaac’s throat was starting to get really prickly. “So, the way you’re feeling about Allison, it’s still an open wound?”  
  
“Sometimes.” Scott smiles at Isaac. “But, symbols can change meaning over time. People change over time. You showed up to my room, you kissed me, and you totally showed me a new side to myself.”  
  
“What about the promise you made to Allison?”  
  
Scott looked away. When he seemed unable to answer, Isaac pressed further.  
  
“What happens if, tomorrow, Allison decides she wants you back, that she wants everything to go back to the way things were between you?”  
  
Scott fell back against the bed and groaned. “I hate hypotheticals! When people ask them, all that happens is that they get hurt when it has no basis in reality!”  
  
Isaac fought back tears. “Well, hypothetical or not, you made a promise. And I know you, Scott. You don’t break your promises.” A few tears started to break through. “That’s why I…” He stopped himself. “It’s what you’re waiting for, isn’t it?”  
  
When Scott could only look at him, Isaac tried everything he could to rein in the tears.  
  
“I’ve been through loss. I know what it’s like. Hell, I’m _still_ going through it, and you know the worst thing about it? It doesn’t get easier. You don’t even get numb to it. It just gets harder, and harder.”  
  
Scott sat up and took Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac went on, “The first time I met you, there was something about you that just—stuck out to me. It wasn’t until you kicked my ass in that skating rink that I realized it: The way you stood up to Derek, you reminded me exactly of my brother. He always stood up for the right thing no matter what. No matter how bad the odds were or how much bigger the bully seemed.  
  
“I tried to suppress it, to ignore it, but the more I got to know you, the more I realized that you were somebody that I needed in my life. I didn’t need the bite to save me. If only I’d met you first, things would’ve probably turned out a lot different.”  
  
Isaac took a deep breath and sniffled. “Now… Now I think I have you in my life in a way that I never, _ever_ thought possible. My life hasn’t been normal since my father was killed—no, it hasn’t been normal since way longer than that—but being here, being with you, like this, it’s the first time I’ve actually felt normal. _Normal_. Do you get that? Does that make sense?”  
  
“Yeah, it does.”  
  
“Now I know that… Now that the way things are going, whatever this is, I don’t wanna go back. I can’t go back. I can’t— _lose_ you, Scott. I just—can’t.” Isaac sniffed. “It’s almost too horrifying to think about.”  
  
When Isaac couldn’t help but start crying, Scott put his hand on his back. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me.”  
  
Isaac sniffed. “I know.”  
  
“Yet, you’re still crying. You’re still sad. Please, just—say what you want. I don’t know what I’m doing here. Just tell me what you want.”  
  
As the tears continued to fall freely, Isaac forced himself to look at Scott. Those brown eyes, as vast as fertile fields of earth, were brimming with such compassion and sympathy that Isaac found his usual restraints failing him. There was no holding back. It was now or never.  
  
“I wanna be with you, Scott. I wanna be with you and—only you. I wanna be the one for you, the one to give you anything and everything you want.”  
  
Scott took a deep breath. “So you want us to be—boyfriends? Partners? You want us to start going out?”  
  
Isaac swallowed and rubbed away a few tears. “Yes. All of it. I want it to be just you and me—exclusive.”  
  
Scott smiled. “OK.”  
  
Isaac was confused. He was certain he had misheard. “OK?”  
  
“OK,” Scott repeated, shrugging. “Let’s do it. Let’s go out. Let’s be boyfriends.”  
  
Isaac coughed a laugh and shook his head. “No, no. It can’t—it can’t be that easy.”  
  
Scott pounced on him, pushing him against the bed. “Yes, it can.” His smile widened into a grin as he used his knuckles to wipe the tears from Isaac’s cheeks. “Oh, God, this makes things so much easier.”  
  
“Scott, you’re not messing with me, are you?”  
  
“No! Of course not. Dude, this means I can tell my mom now!” When Isaac gave him a peculiar look, Scott said, “Well, what the heck was I supposed to tell her? That we were just ‘experimenting,’ or ‘messing around’? How awkward would that be?”  
  
Isaac laughed. “Yeah, I guess that would be pretty awkward.”  
  
Scott kissed him and nuzzled their noses together. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah. This—this makes a lot more sense to me than what we _were_ doing, you know?”  
  
“I think so.”  
  
“And you know, when I made that promise to Allison, I was so sure that there’d be no other girl for me. That there couldn’t possibly be anyone new who could come along and make me feel the way she did. What I didn’t think about was, well, somebody like you coming along.”  
  
“Someone like me?”  
  
“Yeah. You’ve changed everything.”  
  
Isaac could not stop grinning. Never in his wildest dreams did he think this would ever go _this_ well.  
  
“Scott, I—I can’t tell you how happy I am right now. This is, this is probably the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life.”  
  
Scott grinned. “Oh, I can tell. I can definitely smell it.” He brought his hand under the hem of Isaac’s shirt and started to rub his stomach. “I’ve been wanting to try something, and this _would_ be the perfect occasion, but I know my mom’s coming home early today, and I don’t want us to get interrupted.”  
  
Isaac was intrigued—very intrigued—and very disappointed. He was starting to get the rise back in his jeans despite himself.  
  
“What did you have in mind?”  
  
Scott grinned. “Let’s keep it a surprise.”  
  
“Did you wanna tell your mom tonight?”  
  
Scott started tilting his head from side to side; Isaac absolutely adored the way Scott mulled his thoughts over sometimes. “Maybe. I wanna be sure she’s in a good mood before I tell her.”  
  
Scott’s mom didn’t actually end up coming home early, and when she finally did, Scott and Isaac had already started dinner. She thanked them for saving a spot for her but insisted they do their homework while she took care of the dishes.  
  
When Isaac settled into bed with Scott after changing into their usual sleepwear—T-shirt and bottoms for Isaac and just bottoms for Scott—Isaac faced him instead of assuming his normal position as the small spoon. They grinned at each other for a while before Scott lost the staring contest and laughed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m waiting for my surprise.”  
  
Scott gave him a peck on the lips. “I told you—it’ll be a surprise.”  
  
When he turned over and nestled into his pillow, Isaac took the opportunity to be the big spoon and wrapped his arms around Scott’s torso.  
  
“Good night, Scott.”  
  
Scott grasped Isaac’s hand. “Night.”  
  
Isaac inhaled a breath full of Scott and allowed himself to rest. It had been an emotionally exhausting day.  
  
He awoke to find warm lips and an eager tongue wrapped around his throbbing erection.


	9. Scott tells his mom about Isaac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is to get this out in its entirety before the January premier of Teen Wolf. Ahhh!!!!

Scott had been proud that he could wake Isaac without actually waking him. It had felt really, _really_ naughty to slide Isaac’s bottoms down as he slept, to expose his already semi-erect member, and as Scott moved to give Isaac’s manhood a closer look, he felt so incredibly aroused that his own erection manifested within seconds.  
  
Isaac’s core scent was strongest here, and Scott couldn’t help but inhale deeply. He couldn’t believe how drawn he was to Isaac at that moment. The desire flowing through him was one he’d only ever felt for one other person before, and it was a desire that seemed almost—primal. It terrified and thrilled Scott.  
  
Scott finally understood what Isaac meant when he’d said he wasn’t “cut.” There was almost a sheath or something around the head of Isaac’s dick. It looked different from Scott’s, but it wasn’t until he gingerly grasped Isaac’s member and gently stroked it that the term came to him.  
  
Foreskin.  
  
Scott was intrigued by the action of the loose skin, of how easily it seemed to slide up and down over Isaac’s shaft. It was really cool, and it made him wonder why his own cock didn’t act like that. Isaac sighed, startling Scott, but Isaac didn’t move otherwise. Good, he was still asleep. Well, most of him; Isaac’s cock was definitely waking up. When it stood at full mast above his pubes, Scott took a moment to really take it all in.  
  
He was about to interact with another guy’s junk in a way he’d never imagined. When he asked himself what he was doing, the answer came right away and cleared up any confusion: it was Isaac. That was just the answer to everything—Isaac. Scott didn’t know how, but it simply made sense. He cared for Isaac. He wanted to make him feel good. Scariest and most thrilling of all, he wasn’t sure if there was a limit to how far he’d be willing to go.  
  
Scott licked the underside of Isaac’s shaft before closing his lips around the head. Slowly, as he brought Isaac deeper into his mouth, an incredible tingly rush flooded through Scott’s cheeks. Taking Isaac like this wasn’t so much tasting as it was—experiencing. To feel the delicately warm yet firm part of Isaac against his tongue made Scott’s own erection throb and he worked on figuring out how much of Isaac he could take. He knew he definitely couldn’t take all of it, but if he could just—  
  
OK, not too deep. Scott nearly gagged and he would’ve hated for Isaac to wake up at that very moment to see him choking on his dick. Isaac had begun making some faint noises of pleasure, but he still wasn’t awake yet. That gave Scott a chance to work out a workable length, and with just a few bobs, he felt comfortable with the amount he was taking in.  
  
Yeah, he could definitely do this. Scott tasted a bit of sweetness at the tip of Isaac’s cock and so he worked on sucking harder and using his tongue as a shield against his teeth. He wanted to taste more of that sweetness.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
He glanced up at Isaac, whose eyelids were barely open. He hadn’t come to just yet, so Scott reached up and took his hand as he continued to go down on him.  
  
“Holy shit,” Isaac breathed. His breathing quickened rapidly and so did his heartbeat. Scott was pleased he could take him by surprise like so. “Oh my God. Oh, fuck…”  
  
He focused on suction and pressure, which seemed to make Isaac sigh and moan uncontrollably. Scott really liked having this effect on him, so he brought his free hand to cover the rest of the shaft that he couldn’t swallow and worked on stroking and sucking as much pleasure as he could out of Isaac.  
  
Isaac ran a hand through Scott’s hair and seemed to tug on him slightly. “Slow down, Scott—you’re gonna make me come.”  
  
Wasn’t that the point? Scott eased slightly, but hummed lowly to vibrate Isaac’s cock. That drew another “Oh fuck!” from him.  
  
“I don’t…You don’t want me to come in your mouth, do you?”  
  
Scott responded by squeezing harder and bobbing slightly faster. He didn’t care if Isaac came in his mouth. What was the big deal? Allison hadn’t had a problem with it; why should Scott? Besides—he wanted to know what Isaac’s happiness tasted like.  
  
Almost instinctively, Scott had reached below and started stroking himself. They hadn’t come together in a while, and Scott wanted to share a moment like that again. Even without much physical stimulation, he felt himself become close, too. He was leaking a lot, and all the pre-come was making his grip slick. That, and he was jacking off with his left hand, which was new and weird, but oddly satisfying.  
  
“Scott, oh God, Scott, I think—oh, fuck, I’m gonna come!”  
  
Scott could sense it coming from the way Isaac’s muscles tensed, the way his testicles drew up to his body, the way his voice became lower and more gravelly. Scott stroked himself faster and continued bobbing until Isaac’s cock shuddered once and began to shoot, filling Scott’s mouth with hot, gooey—mush. Again, it wasn’t so much about the taste as it was the experience, and Scott found himself growling and stumbling as his own orgasm took him.  
  
As Isaac’s come seeped past his lips, Scott swallowed as he continued to bob, easing slightly on the pressure. He wanted to milk every last bit of come out of Isaac, to make him squirm as long as possible. Isaac had let out a long, low groan as he came, and though it was quiet, Scott felt the vibrations through his core.  
  
When Isaac’s erection began to soften, Scott gave it one last lick before releasing it and sliding back up the bed. He pulled his gooey hand from his pajama bottoms; yeah, he’d made a pretty big mess down there.  
  
For a moment, Isaac lay still as he gazed at Scott. Then he grabbed Scott and pulled him in for a kiss—a deep, hard kiss with lots of tongue.  
  
“That was amazing,” Isaac whispered, their foreheads together.  
  
“Glad you liked it.” Scott nudged him backwards for another kiss.  
  
They got up and washed off quickly in Scott’s bathroom before returning to bed. Scott changed pajama bottoms while Isaac chose to forego clothes entirely. Scott reassumed his role as the big spoon.  
  
“Was that a good surprise?”  
  
“The best.” Isaac took Scott’s hand and squeezed it. Scott listened to the rhythm of Isaac’s breathing, and once it settled into that familiar pattern of slumber, he kissed the back of Isaac’s neck before falling asleep himself.  
  
The next day, Scott found himself to be in a really cheery mood at school; for the whole day, really. He resolved to tell his mom about him and Isaac that night at dinner, and things seemed to go in his favor: his mom came home on time, she seemed to be in a good mood, and the three of them were able to make dinner together. Scott had not explicitly talked about it with Isaac, but he could sense the expectation was there. Isaac had radiated such a happy surprise about this moment that Scott couldn’t imagine putting it off for much longer.  
  
Still, it was difficult to start. Scott just couldn’t think of what he would say to break the ice. So he kept looking at Isaac over dinner, and he merely looked back with a devious smile. He was practically saying, “I’m not telling her! She’s _your_ mom.” Scott ended up spending a lot of time cutting his chicken, looking at Isaac, and not actually putting any food in his mouth. It was all becoming really nerve-wracking, and he was pretty sure Isaac was enjoying his discomfort. Not in a mean way, of course; just in his innocent, Isaac-like way of avoiding attention.  
  
“OK you two,” his mom finally said. Most of the meal had passed with silence and pleasantries. “What’s going on?”  
  
Isaac glanced up but focused mainly on his potatoes. “Nothing. Just a rough practice today.”  
  
Oh, Isaac. Scott would never have to doubt that he had his back.  
  
“Actually,” Scott said, “there’s something I should tell you.”  
  
Bad move. The way his mom just froze and tensed up as she looked at him, Scott realized he should’ve tried to use something else to start this. Every other time in his life when he’d used that phrase, it was always about something bad—his failing grades, his lost inhaler, his broken bicycle.  
  
Wait—could this be a bad thing, too?  
  
“I’m gay,” Isaac blurted.  
  
Scott and his mom both stared at Isaac, who swallowed and quickly started to turn bright red as he poked at his greens with his fork.  
  
Panicking, Scott looked back at his mom. “I’m gay, too.” Her look of surprise turned into full-fledged astonishment. “Well, not really,” Scott added. “I mean, I still like girls, but, I guess now, I like guys, too. Actually, I like one guy. You might know him—he’s tall, he’s got curly hair, he’s been staying with us for a while.”  
  
Scott reached for Isaac and they squeezed each other’s hands across the table. Isaac smiled at Scott through his blushing and Scott kept his eyes on Isaac.  
  
“We’re a couple now,” Scott said.  
  
When he looked back at his mom, her amazement started verging on a smile. She started to speak a few times but kept stopping herself.  
  
“Oh, wow,” she stuttered, “wow. Wow! I—I was _not_ expecting this at all. _Wow!”_  
  
Scott wanted to ask if this was more of a surprise than finding out he was a werewolf, but he didn’t want to remind her that Isaac was a werewolf, too. “Are you OK, mom?”  
  
She started to grin. “Yeah, I’m OK. I’m more than OK! It’s just a mom, thing, you know? When you look at your kid, and you see them interacting with someone you really like, and you imagine them—well, I don’t want to spoil things.”  
  
Her grin dampened slightly. “But, if you’re a couple now, and you’ve been staying here—Isaac, does that mean—it hasn’t just been the bed, and the sleeping bag on the floor…?”  
  
When she left the question hanging, Scott and Isaac looked at each other and Scott felt himself blushing, too.  
  
“Isaac has nightmares,” Scott blurted, turning back to his mom.  
  
Hesitating only slightly, Isaac looked at his mom, too. “I have nightmares.”  
  
“And, so—we cuddle. And when we cuddle, he doesn’t have nightmares.”  
  
“When we cuddle, I don’t have nightmares.”  
  
“So, we cuddle.”  
  
Snorting a laugh, Scott’s mom covered her face and looked towards the table. As she started to shake, Scott and Isaac glanced at each other again.  
  
“Mom? Are you all right?”  
  
She was trying so, so hard not laugh, but she was failing miserably. For a good moment, his mom could not speak, only laugh silently to herself.  
  
“Mom?”  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” his mom whispered. She could still barely speak, she was laughing so hard. Finally, after another minute or two, she contained herself. “You two—you two are too adorable sometimes.  
  
“I’m so happy for you two. I’m glad you found each other. It’s just that I need to think about this, about how I feel about having two teenage boys in the house together—‘cuddling,’ as you put it.”  
  
“But, mom! It’s not like, like I could get him pregnant or anything!”  
  
“Scott!” His mom seemed to sober up entirely. “That is not the point!”  
  
“Mrs. McCall, if I may?”  
  
She seemed to be caught off-guard by how formal Isaac was being. “Of course, Isaac.”  
  
“I really care for Scott. I would never do anything to hurt him. We’re not—messing around just to mess around. You’ve extended a kindness to me that I can’t even begin to repay, and I can’t imagine where I’d be right now if you hadn’t agreed to let me stay here. I understand that this is your house, so I wouldn’t dream of doing anything that you disapprove of, but please know that you and Scott have, really, been there for me like no one else has in a very long time. Please believe me when I say that I did not mean to upset you at all.”  
  
Scott felt that warm, gooey feeling return to his core. Oh, Isaac. He didn’t really believe that his mom would ever kick him out because of this, did he?  
  
His mom seemed to be touched, too, by the way she was looking at Isaac. “Oh, Isaac, sweetheart, you haven’t upset me. I’m just—this is totally new for me. I’m just going to need a little time to adjust, that’s all. Not much time, mind you; just enough so that I can figure out what rules I need to put in place.”  
  
“Mom!”  
  
She cleared her throat. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to sneak around, however. So, for now—just, not when I’m in the house, all right? And not when you have homework to do.”  
  
Scott and Isaac glanced at each other before nodding eagerly.  
  
“Can we still cuddle?” Scott asked.  
  
His mom grinned. “As long as it helps with the nightmares.”  
  
After they finished dinner and his mom left them to do the dishes, Scott was feeling really proud of how he and Isaac handled everything. As Isaac washed and Scott rinsed, Scott said, “That went pretty well.”  
  
“Yeah, it did.”  
  
“You didn’t have to come out like that, you know.”  
  
Isaac smiled at Scott. “Your mom probably would have figured it out. I just thought you needed a lifeline.”  
  
“No, I mean… Well, I guess, you really meant it, then?”  
  
Isaac nodded. “It’s who I am. It’s time I finally admitted it.”  
  
Scott swallowed. “Well, if you’re gay, and we’re together, I guess I’m gay then, too.”  
  
“It doesn’t work like that, Scott. I don’t need you to be gay for us to be together. I don’t need a label. I just need you to be who you are.”  
  
“Are you sure? Wouldn’t it just be easier to tell people that we’re both gay?”  
  
Isaac looked at him. “Do you really care what people think?”  
  
“No. I just don’t want you to think I’m trying to…I dunno. Cop out or something.”  
  
“I believe you when you say you still like girls, and I believe you when you say you don’t really like guys—except for me. I think trying to put a label on that would be reductive and—not very useful. It’s probably more restrictive than anything. Just promise me something, will you?”  
  
“Anything.”  
  
Isaac smiled. “Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d never want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, and I hope I haven’t.”  
  
“You haven’t.”  
  
Isaac grinned for a moment, then sobered up quickly. “So, what about—Allison?”  
  
“What about her?”  
  
“She’s gonna find out. Are you planning on telling her?”  
  
Scott thought for a moment. “I dunno—what do you think I should do?”  
  
Isaac looked at him, surprised—almost as if he’d never thought Scott would ask him what to do with Allison. “Well, you two are still friends, right? Technically?”  
  
Scott shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’d hope so.”  
  
“I think you should tell her, but—not in a weird way. Know what I mean? Like, don’t go out of your way to tell her. Don’t jump up her window to tell her. Just when the moment is right.”  
  
Scott laughed. “What if she finds out before then?”  
  
“Then—she finds out. You don’t need her permission to go out with me, do you?”  
  
Scott felt himself blushing again. “No.”  
  
Isaac bumped his hip against him and they laughed. “Do you _want_ to tell her?”  
  
Scott sighed. “I dunno. I mean, she broke up with _me_ , technically. But then—well, you know.”  
  
“You still care for her.”  
  
Scott looked at him. Either Isaac was getting better at masking his emotions, or he really was getting better about talking about Allison; he couldn’t smell that burst of lemony sadness from him. “I do. But—”  
  
“It’s OK,” Isaac interrupted. “I’d never ask you to cut Allison out of your life. I trust you. Do what you think is right.”  
  
“Right, no pressure.”  
  
Isaac laughed. “Well, do you wanna be with me?”  
  
“Yeah, I do.”  
  
Isaac leaned over and kissed his cheek. Whispering, he said, “Then that’s all I need.”  
  
Once the dishes were done, homework was completed, and nightly rituals were finished, Scott settled into bed with Isaac in their usual cuddling positions. Scott could not deny it—he felt really, _really_ good with Isaac.  
  
The fact that Isaac trusted him completely simultaneously comforted and worried him. Scott had learned that, despite his best intentions, things had a tendency to go wrong—especially lately. He wasn’t sure how Allison would react to the news. Could he lose her entirely over this—as a friend? The thought troubled him greatly, but flipping it around, losing Isaac seemed to be just as awful, too. Would he be jealous if Allison started seeing someone, too?  
  
Ugh. Scott _hated_ hypotheticals. He wasn’t doing himself any favors right now, especially with Isaac beside him being all warm and cuddly and sleepy. He’d deal with the situations as they came about. Stressing about the possibilities right now wouldn’t help things. He’d tell Allison and see what happens. She could be totally cool with it. She might even been happy for them.  
  
Scott felt the inklings of an erection come about. With Isaac already asleep, they clearly weren’t going to do anything that night, but a thought came to him that made him really excited and anxious: He should really talk to somebody who knew more about all this— _stuff._ He and Isaac, together, even. Someone who had to know better about being with another guy; two guys being together.  
  
Because there was definitely something Isaac wanted to do—Scott could smell the desire off of him constantly—and given how much Isaac wanted to do it, Scott wanted to try it, too.  
  
He wanted to give it to him.


	10. Isaac and Scott get advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac and Scott finally go all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please educate yourself on safe-sex practices!

Isaac was certain he had fallen in love with Scott McCall.  
  
He just couldn’t be annoyed by anything Scott did. He was just so darn lovable and adorable that Isaac had become convinced that Scott was really just an overgrown puppy at heart.  
  
Scott sure sounded like a puppy most mornings, at least. Whenever the alarm buzzed, Scott would make these doglike whining noises that always made Isaac laugh. Isaac usually ended up on the side of the bed with the alarm, too, and so the whines wouldn’t stop until he hit the snooze button for just five more minutes of cuddle time.  
  
And then there was the poking. Scott was always poking; poke, poke, poke. When he wasn’t poking Isaac with his erection, he was slyly poking Isaac from the desk behind him at school, whenever he passed him in the locker room, or just when he felt like it as they hung out on the couch watching TV. When they would cuddle, Scott would also tap him affectionately on the nose as they chatted.  
  
Isaac didn’t ask him about it at first. When he finally did, Scott’s answer was just as cute.  
  
“I dunno. I just like poking you.”  
  
It didn’t strike Isaac at first that Scott’s pokes were perhaps a subtle nudge from a wanting of something—more. Despite himself, Isaac couldn’t help imagining how Scott must’ve been with Allison and comparing their relationship to how he was now with Isaac. Surely, Scott had to have felt a need to be more—macho in his affections. He couldn’t see Allison being amused by Scott’s admittedly juvenile humor, but he couldn’t be sure. He wanted to think that Scott was different with him, that he was more relaxed and freer with him, but that was probably just wishful thinking. He didn’t want to have something else in common with Allison Argent.  
  
He definitely wouldn’t make Scott hide their relationship or force him to sneak around. He definitely wouldn’t let his mother or aunt try to kill him or his father point a revolver in his face. He wouldn’t stab Scott just to get a point across. He wouldn’t use a mutant psychotic werewolf to threaten Scott’s loved ones and force him to do his bidding.  
  
OK, he wasn’t being fair, but the less he had in common with Allison, the better. Isaac just couldn’t fathom the things Scott had told him about the Argents, about what they’d done to him and everything that had happened. Most of the things Isaac had already known about, but to hear it from Scott—and the way he tried to downplay or justify the Argents’ actions—it greatly worried Isaac. He knew Scott would lay himself on the line for the people he cared about, and whenever there was an Argent, there was danger.  
  
Isaac was used to pain. He was used to fear, and he didn’t mind danger. But when it came to Scott, fear took on a profoundly different intensity. The thought of Scott getting hurt or of losing him was almost debilitating. Of course, this was Beacon Hills, danger was always lurking, and Scott could take care of himself—but no matter how Isaac tried to reason away the fear, it would simply not be bargained with. It was a primal fear. If Isaac lost Scott—he would lose everything.  
  
He also didn’t want to have anything in common with Allison just so that he wasn’t a stand-in for her. Scott never compared him to Allison, and he was absolutely fine with that. If their relationship could be just as profound, if not more, Isaac would be happy.  
  
Gradually, Isaac became more convinced of Scott’s affections. In reality, they were probably already there. Scott was a selfless lover; he genuinely cared for people. He was loyal. He was an open book. Isaac was the one who was guarded, who didn’t trust easily, who wasn’t so quick to give the benefit of the doubt.  
  
Yet, Scott seemed to understand. He always seemed to know when to let Isaac go at his own pace and when to nudge him along. When to talk and when to listen. And that never stopped him from looking at Isaac in a way he just didn’t seem to look at anyone else.  
  
Yes, he loved Scott. He loved him more than life itself. So, he wanted to give something to Scott, and he wanted to make sure that he did everything right. He just never imagined that Scott would beat him to it.  
  
“So, do you think we should finally have sex? I mean, _real_ sex?”  
  
It was after dinner and they were doing their homework in Scott’s room, Scott with English and Isaac with French. Scott just started talking out of the blue. Isaac had no idea what to say.  
  
 _“Quoi?”_  
  
Scott shrugged in his adorably shy way. “You know, _sex_ sex.”  
  
“What we’ve been doing isn’t sex?”  
  
“It is, but, I mean…” Scott started swinging his leg under the desk. “You _know.”_  
  
“You mean, anal sex?”  
  
Scott seemed to be trying real hard not to blush. “Yeah.”  
  
“We don’t have to do it if you’re grossed out by it.”  
  
“I’m not. I just—I wondered, I was wondering… I mean, how would we do it?”  
  
Isaac was trying really hard not to smile. “You mean, who—gives, and who receives?” When Scott nodded, Isaac went on, “We could try it both ways.”  
  
“Sure. I just mean, how do we decide—who does what first?”  
  
As much as he might have fantasized about it, Isaac had not actually thought about it pragmatically. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Rock-paper-scissors?”  
  
Isaac laughed. “Are you serious?” Scott nodded shyly. “So what does it mean when someone wins?”  
  
“Um, how about the winner gives first?” Scott answered.  
  
Isaac agreed, and so they played rock-paper-scissors with the best two out of three. Isaac won the first, Scott the second, and Isaac again on the third.  
  
“Aw, man!” Scott exclaimed.  
  
Isaac took Scott’s hand. “You can give first, Scott. Hell, you can always give, if you want. It doesn’t matter to me.”  
  
Scott shook his head. “No, you give first. We’ll take turns.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Isaac started to fiddle with his pencil. “We should probably ask somebody about this first.”  
  
“Like who?”  
  
Isaac shrugged. “Somebody who probably has a lot more experience with this than we do.”  
  
***  
  
The cafeteria seemed busier than usual. Isaac did not usually have the same lunch period as Scott, so he was nervous when he sat at the table with him and Stiles. Scott and Isaac had planned to do this after cross country practice, but an exam in English foiled their plans.  
  
“This is perfect!” Scott had insisted. “This way, we won’t have to hold him up after practice.”  
  
Isaac wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want to have to discuss something so private in what felt like a public forum. Plus, Stiles was here.  
  
“OK, what’s the matter with you two?” Stiles said after finishing an enormous bite of his sandwich. “You look like you’re planning some secret mischievous plot.”  
  
Scott snickered to himself and Isaac laughed with him due to sheer nerves. He hung out with Scott at school, sure, but he wasn’t used to being seen with him since they—well, since they got together.  
  
Since Scott didn’t answer Stiles, Isaac kept quiet. Scott glanced around the cafeteria; Isaac noticed his leg twitching under the table.  
  
“I don’t see him yet,” Scott uttered.  
  
“Who are you guys looking for?”  
  
Isaac spotted him enter the cafeteria. Tapping Scott’s arm, he said, “There he is.” And he wasn’t alone. Of course he wasn’t.  
  
Danny sat at an empty far table with Ethan. When Isaac looked back at Scott, Scott squared his jaw. “Ethan’s not going to spoil this. And Danny doesn’t hold a grudge, trust me. Come on.”  
  
When Scott stood with his tray, Isaac felt compelled to follow and took his as well.  
  
“Bye, guys!” Stiles said. “I guess I’ll just—sit here, and eat, by myself.”  
  
Isaac glanced back at Stiles, but Scott was on a mission. Ethan was on the side of the table to see them approach and he regarded them with dry amusement. Scott sat at the table beside Ethan, leaving a spot for Isaac beside Danny. Isaac did not want to sit so quickly and obtrusively, but awkwardness propelled him to follow Scott’s lead.  
  
“Hi Danny,” Scott greeted.  
  
“Hi?”  
  
Scott turned to Ethan. “We need to talk to Danny. Alone.”  
  
Isaac was simultaneously impressed and worried by Scott’s bluntness. He had no qualms about sticking it to Ethan, but weren’t they trying to get Danny to help them?  
  
Ethan bared his teeth at Scott. “Sure.”  
  
Even Scott seemed surprised at how easy that was when Ethan stood up and left the table.  
  
“What was that about?” Danny demanded. He turned to Isaac. “What is your problem with him?”  
  
“We didn’t come to talk about Ethan,” Scott said. “We just needed some privacy—and some advice.”  
  
Scott clearly knew Danny better than Isaac did, and he was relieved to see Danny disarm himself.  
  
“About what?”  
  
That was when Scott gave Isaac a little nod. Clearly, he was not going to do all the work for them both. When Isaac eyed him back, incredulous, he saw a slight smirk form at the edge of Scott’s lips. Well, Scott did just do the hard part for him. Perhaps it was Isaac’s turn, now.  
  
Isaac inhaled deeply. “Scott and I… We wanna try something. We wanna go all the way.”  
  
Danny seemed momentarily stunned. Then he laughed. “So it’s true?” he exclaimed. “Wow. Are you guys trying to keep this a secret? Because you’re doing a horrible job at it.”  
  
Despite himself, Isaac felt the back of his neck burn. Scott smiled. “It’s not a secret.”  
  
“OK. Wow. How long has this been going on?”  
  
When Scott didn’t answer, Isaac said, “A little while now.” God, he hoped Scott wasn’t listening to his heartbeat.  
  
“So, if I have this straight, you guys want advice on anal sex—is that right?”  
  
“Yes,” Isaac and Scott answered—simultaneously.  
  
Danny grinned and shook his head. “You two are too adorable for your own good. If I help you guys—you need to promise to leave Ethan alone. Deal?”  
  
Isaac turned to Scott, who seemed to be on the verge of huffing. “All right,” he said, “if you help, _I_ will leave Ethan alone—as long as he doesn’t cause you trouble.”  
  
When Danny seemed satisfied, Isaac was impressed. Scott was clever, no doubt. “Well,” Danny said, “what do you want to know?”  
  
Smiling, Scott said, “Everything.”  
  
***  
  
 _It doesn’t really matter who does what, but keep in mind that height will make a difference depending on the position you take. But first, start slow. Take a bath. It’ll help relax your muscles and—loosen you up._  
  
Things were lining up for Isaac. He managed to cut out of practice early without Scott noticing, and he’d found just the right bubble-bath mix he was looking for at the store. It was the same one that his mother had used, eons ago, and he was pleased to find that it still had the same subtle lavender scent he remembered. Even with his heightened sense of smell, it wasn’t overpowering.  
  
He heard Scott’s motorcycle pull into the driveway just as the bubbles in the tub were reaching their peak. Isaac started getting hard, and he scoffed at himself. What a way to jump the gun.  
  
“Isaac?” Scott called upon entering the house.  
  
“Upstairs,” he called back. Sitting on the edge of the tub, he waited.  
  
When Scott entered the bathroom, the look of surprise on his face was priceless. Gradually, his expression turned to mischief.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
Isaac grinned and nodded towards the tub. “Get in.”  
  
Scott was all smiles as he stood before Isaac. After taking a step closer, he reached for the hem of his shirt and drew it up and over his head to expose his still sweaty torso. Isaac couldn’t help gasping slightly as he gazed at Scott’s chiseled, slightly slick form. God, he was perfect.  
  
Then he started undoing his belt, which made Isaac’s erection manifest fully. Scott flashily pulled the belt from his jeans and let it fall to the floor along with his shirt. He traced his fly slowly before undoing the zipper and decisively unbuttoning the waist. With just a slight tug, the jeans crumpled to his ankles and exposed his slightly tented boxer-briefs.  
  
For as much as he knew Scott was trying to be goofy, Isaac couldn’t laugh. He was just so incredibly turned on by the striptease.  
  
“Do you like what you see?” Scott tempered his smile down to a smirk. Now, he was beyond seductive.  
  
Isaac suppressed a grin. “Maybe.”  
  
“Oh yeah?”  
  
Scott grabbed his crotch and adjusted himself provocatively. Isaac felt a spark shoot through his testicles as his cock pressed against his jeans. Scott slid his fingers inside the waistband of his boxer-briefs and stretched them as he bent down and lowered them to his crumpled jeans. After stepping out of the last of his clothes, Scott rose slowly, triumphantly, to Isaac’s beastly delight.  
  
“How about now?”  
  
Isaac couldn’t speak. Everything about Scott was just simply—perfect. From his sharp abs to the V-line tracing his hips to that gorgeous, thick cock—Scott’s naked form nearly overwhelmed Isaac in the small room. And, God, that bush—that wild, mischievous bush around his cock. It just stuck out so much since Scott’s chest was essentially hairless, and most of his body hair seemed to concentrate around his lower body.  
  
“Definitely,” Isaac breathed.  
  
Scott walked to the tub and took his sweet time stepping over Isaac to get into the water.  
  
“Ooh, it smells good,” Scott said as he settled into the bubbles. He chuckled. “I’ve never taken a bubble bath before.”  
  
Isaac smiled. “I could see this becoming a regular thing.”  
  
“Definitely,” Scott said, smiling back.  
  
 _You should think about working a massage in. Anything to relieve as much tension as possible._  
  
“So, are you just going to sit there and watch?”  
  
“I like to watch.”  
  
“Why just watch? This tub is big enough for the both of us.”  
  
The erection in his jeans twitched again, quashing the last bit of shyness Isaac felt. He stood and began to undress himself, and he was pleased to see Scott watching him, to see desire reflected back at him. He was fully hard, harder than Scott had been, but it didn’t really matter. Isaac had always been kind of a shower, anyway.  
  
Scott moved to accommodate Isaac behind him and they settled into the bubbles together. Isaac took Scott’s shoulders and began to knead his thumbs deep into the firm tissue behind his neck. Scott was always so vocal while being pleasured, and this time was no exception as Isaac massaged him.  
  
“Oh, yeah...oh—yeah…”  
  
“You’re really tight. Really tight.”  
  
Isaac had underestimated just how much stress Scott was under. His body was certainly reflecting it. Granted, there was a lot going on, but for just a little while, Isaac was determined to make it all go away. As he continued to massage Scott, Isaac felt his muscles loosening, his body slackening against him.  
  
Once satisfied with how lax Scott had become, Isaac pulled him close. Wrapping one arm around him, bringing the other to stroke his cock, and moving in to lick Scott’s ear, Isaac launched a triple assault on Scott’s erogenous zones.  
  
“Ohhh, fuck—ohh, yeah…” Scott moaned, his erection coming to fruition in Isaac’s grip.  
  
 _Don’t underestimate foreplay. The human body is a trove of buttons just waiting to be pushed. A little attention here, a kiss there, a rub there—it can all go a long way_.  
  
“You like that?”  
  
“Fuck yeah,” Scott sighed, turning towards him. Scott met Isaac’s tongue with his own and kissed him urgently, hardly bothering with the lips at all. It was all about tongue at that moment.  
  
As they made out, Scott’s heartbeat began to quicken. “Oh, God,” Scott grunted, pulling back abruptly, “I can’t wait any longer.” He gazed at Isaac. “I want you to make love to me.” His eyes glowed. “Now.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Isaac whispered.  
  
They both stood in a flash, rinsed off, and toweled off with barely a second to spare. Their lips and tongues joining again, they left the bathroom and crossed the room to fall onto Scott’s bed without breaking bodily contact. Isaac wound up on top of Scott—just the position he wanted to be in.  
  
Isaac broke lip contact to plunge his tongue into the sweet spot on Scott’s neck. Scott sighed with pleasure and began to rub his hands up and down Isaac’s body. Scott had gotten better at coordinating himself while being pleasured and he began to stroke Isaac’s cock, but Isaac liked overwhelming him. Besides, he didn’t need much to keep his erection going right then.  
  
As Isaac moved lower, he planted kisses all over Scott’s muscles, worshiping them, before spending a moment to press his tongue against Scott’s nipple. He moaned as Isaac lapped the sensitive area with warmth—one, and then the other—before finishing off with a gentle nip. Scott cried out in surprise.  
  
Isaac had always found it oddly exciting that Scott was so willing to go down on him. He had fully expected that it would be the other way around, so as Isaac made his way lower to Scott’s erection, his arousal became supercharged at the idea that he was turning the tables. He took a moment to lick and suck each of Scott’s testicles before taking the erection in his mouth.  
  
“Oh, Isaac,” Scott moaned, “oh yeah…”  
  
Isaac bobbed his head slowly, sucking hard, but paid attention not to overstimulate him. He had made the mistake more than once of coming in Scott’s mouth before he’d intended, and—sweet Scott—he had always swallowed. Isaac wondered if, sometimes, Scott would do it on purpose.  
  
“Oh, God—fuck me, Isaac. I want you inside me!”  
  
Isaac paused, then slid up back over Scott to meet him face-to-face. Ah, Scott—always full of surprises.  
  
He cradled his head and rested his body against Scott’s. His heart rate rising fast, Isaac took a moment to steady himself.  
  
Scott cradled him back. “You’re shaking.”  
  
Isaac swallowed. “I’m a virgin.”  
  
Stupid. Stupid. He didn’t know why he had to say something so blatantly obvious. He shut his eyes, as if he could hide his embarrassment with Scott barely two inches in front of him.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Scott said, caressing his face, “it’s OK. I’ve never done anything like this before, either. I trust you.”  
  
Isaac opened his eyes. “You do?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Isaac kissed him. “I’m gonna take care of you, Scott. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”  
  
“I know you will. You already do.”  
  
 _Have lube ready, and lots of it. Start with a finger, see how tight you feel, then work in a second finger. Don’t rush this part, and don’t underestimate girth. It’s an incredibly sensitive area, so spend the time to get it primed._  
  
Scott reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a tall, skinny bottle of lube. Isaac had already bought some, but it was in his bag, and as usual, Scott had beaten him to the punch.  
  
“Let’s do it,” Scott said.  
  
Isaac took the bottle, popped open the cap, and squeezed a generous amount onto his left hand.  
  
 _Being on your back is probably the easiest way to start, but don’t get me wrong—there are plenty of positions to try. It might help the catcher to have a little lower back support, like a pillow or something. Just be willing to support his legs every now and then_.  
  
Scott lifted his legs back, revealing his sumptuous ass and a delicately pink hole. Isaac nearly shuddered as chills ran through his body. Seeing Scott on his back like this—his legs spread—was another never-in-a-million-years dream come true. Isaac touched the tip of his middle finger to that sacred entrance and began to rub firmly, coating it in lube. After a few encouraging moans from Scott, Isaac pressed past the opening and slid his finger inside with surprising ease.  
  
“Ohhh, yeah,” Scott sighed, arcing his head back.  
  
Isaac felt an incredible warmth around his finger, and with such an amazing sample, his cock twitched. Already leaking like crazy, he practically had enough lube to coat his entire shaft.  
  
 _If you hook your finger up towards the bellybutton, you will find something round and firm. Treat it gently, because that’s the prostate. That’s where a lot of the magic comes from_.  
  
Scott didn’t feel tight at all around his finger, so Isaac explored for the prostate. When Scott cried out, “Oh fuck,” Isaac knew he’d found it. He massaged that spot to draw out several more moans of pleasure from Scott before sliding out to bring in a second finger, his index finger. Isaac started to feel a bit more resistance, so he worked himself in—slowly—relishing the sensation of his fingers sliding deeper and deeper into his best friend. As Scott loosened, Isaac began a slight sliding motion with his fingers to simulate what was to come.  
  
As Scott continued to moan and squirm with pleasure, Isaac asked, “Are you ready for me?”  
  
“Yes!” he exclaimed, gazing back at Isaac.  
  
“Do you want it?”  
  
“I want it!”  
  
“Do you want me to fuck you?”  
  
“Fuck me!”  
  
 _All this preparation is important, but, trust me, it’s probably still going to hurt when you first enter. That preparation is going to be important in how quickly he’ll adjust and accept you. Condom or no condom, it’s gonna feel a lot different either way, so you should talk about what you’re comfortable with_.  
  
Scott grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted a burst of it onto his hand. He reached for Isaac’s cock and stroked it firmly, making Isaac cry out as he lubed him up. Scott was always so good with his hands.  
  
Grabbing one of Scott’s pillows, Isaac folded it in half and brought it under Scott to support his back and lift him up. Grabbing onto Scott’s ankles, Isaac moved in and pressed the tip of his cock against Scott’s hole. Isaac simulated a few thrusts as his cock slid up and down Scott’s perineum.  
  
“Take me, Isaac,” Scott moaned. “I want you inside me.”  
  
Isaac took his hand and pressed his cock against Scott’s entrance. He pressed and pressed, the pressure mounting against him, until his cock burst past the sphincter and slid inside of Scott.  
  
Scott cried out, but this time, it wasn’t a sound of pleasure. It was of pain. He’d arced his head back and his eyes were clamped shut as different, painful moans started escaping him.  
  
Panicking slightly, Isaac leaned into Scott to caress his face and to soothe him with bodily contact. He shushed him gently as he reassured him.  
  
“Scott, it’s OK, it’s OK—you’re doing so good, baby. You’re doing so good. Just relax—just take me. Accept me. It’s OK. You’re doing great.”  
  
 _You might be lucky and avoid the pain sometimes, but don’t worry if there is. He’ll adjust. Just stay in, and go slow_.  
  
Scott continued to whine, but as Isaac held him, his whines seemed to take on the more pleasing quality that Isaac had grown used to.  
  
“How are you feeling?”  
  
“Good. I’m—I’m loosening up. I’m relaxing.”  
  
“You’re doing so good, Scott.”  
  
Holy fucking shit, did Scott feel amazing. The heat and the tightness enveloping Isaac’s cock was mind-blowing. This was it—this had to be it. Nothing else could possibly feel _this_ amazing.  
  
 _He will adjust, so start moving. Experiment with your angles and speeds, and test how much of you he can take. Touching the edge of the bowel is not pleasant for the catcher, so just talk to each other. See what feels good for you both. The catcher might not keep his erection, but that’s natural. Don’t take it as a sign of disinterest. Just be sure you talk about how you want to handle things when the orgasms happen_.  
  
Isaac began to move his hips, and the pleasure surging through him quadrupled. He stayed slow, and he could feel Scott loosening slightly.  
  
“Oh fuck, oh God, yeah, yeah… That’s it…”  
  
Convinced that Scott had relaxed fully, Isaac pulled back to thrust him more deeply. As Scott started to moan and cry out again with intense pleasure, Isaac gradually thrust deeper until he could feel Scott’s ass against his pelvis.  
  
“Oh God, you’re taking me so good, Scott. You’re taking all of me. You’re taking every inch!”  
  
“Fuck yeah. I want it all.”  
  
Isaac leaned in again to make out with Scott. Though he couldn’t thrust as deeply, the oral contact more than made up for it. Tasting Scott like this—being inside him like this—Isaac found himself grunting and moaning right along with Scott. There was no way he’d make love to him without being as close as anatomically possible to him.  
  
As Isaac felt himself sliding inside of Scott with ease, a primal instinct took over. He was burning up. He was sweating all over. Scott was clutching him as if to hang on for dear life. Isaac wanted to thrust harder, and faster, although he knew he couldn’t possibly last very long at such a pace. He knew he was close, and he had no idea how he’d managed to last this long inside of Scott.  
  
“Think you could take me if I fucked you harder?”  
  
“Fuck yeah.”  
  
“You want me to fuck you harder?”  
  
“Fuck yeah!”  
  
Isaac straightened himself again to thrust deeper and faster. Scott began to simply wail with intense pleasure as the bed shook and the slaps of his ass against Isaac’s pelvis echoed through the room. With his calves against Isaac’s shoulders, Isaac spit into his hand, grasped Scott’s cock—which was still fully hard—and started to stroke him.  
  
“Oh God, Scott, I’m so close. Do you still want me to come inside you?”  
  
“Yes! Don’t pull out!”  
  
Isaac felt the inevitable coming, so he squeezed Scott’s cock even harder and stroked all out.  
  
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, Scott. I’m gonna come!”  
  
The orgasm struck Isaac with such force that he had to shout with unadulterated ecstasy as come started surging through his dick. At almost the same time, Scott began crying out and Isaac felt his hand become drenched with Scott’s own orgasm. Scott’s sphincter clamped down hard and pulsed against Isaac’s dick as he came, making Isaac buckle over as the sheer pressure on his orgasming cock drove him out of his wits. They moaned together until their cocks drained of come and their orgasms gradually subsided.  
  
Make no mistake, though. For Isaac, the orgasm was so intense that he could not move for several moments, merely catch his breath, and Scott seemed to feel the same way. They merely gazed at each other without saying a word. Finally, when Isaac’s cock softened enough, he pulled out of Scott, but not without a shock to them both when Isaac’s cock popped out of Scott’s ass. Isaac leaned in to give Scott one last extended kiss, and though they were both worn out, Scott seemed to return the tenderness with every bit of energy he had left. After letting Scott’s legs down, Isaac collapsed beside him.  
  
“Oh my God,” Isaac uttered.  
  
Scott looked at him. “That was fucking amazing.”  
  
Isaac looked back at him. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I love you, Scott.” Oh, fuck, what did he just do?  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
Isaac blinked. “What?”  
  
Scott laughed. “I said, I love you, too, you dope!” He turned on his side to cuddle against Isaac.  
  
“You—you don’t have to say it back, just ‘cause I said it.”  
  
Scott pecked him on the lips. “I said it back—because I mean it. Do you really think I would’ve let you do what we just did if I didn’t?”  
  
Isaac grinned. This moment could not get any better. “I love you.” Damn, did it feel good to say.  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
Isaac saw how sweaty Scott was, then realized it was probably from himself. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean to sweat all over you like that.”  
  
Scott laughed. “Are you kidding me? That was hot. I like making you sweat. And, it’s not like I didn’t make a mess of my own.”  
  
Isaac ran a finger through the come on Scott’s abs and tasted a bit of it. Mixed with the sweat, his come was bittersweet.  
  
“Should we get cleaned up so we can come back and cuddle?”  
  
“You read my mind.”  
  
After washing off and getting back into bed with nothing but air between them, Isaac held Scott close and took the moment to bask in his happiness—his contentment. It had been a long, long time since he’d felt something like this. Frankly, he wasn’t sure if he had ever felt anything like this before. Now that they had given themselves to each other in every way that Isaac had ever wanted, he resolved to do everything in his power to protect what they had. Something this valuable was what people lived for. Something this precious was what people died for.  
  
Much still stood in their way, though, and Isaac had a feeling their honeymoon phase was nearing an end. Regardless of what was to come, he was going to fight for Scott—whatever the cost.  
  
Or die trying.


	11. Scott tells Allison about Isaac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this—a plot after ten chapters?

Scott knew he had a few loose ends to tie up, and one of those involved Allison. A few, actually. Scott had found the military-grade armor-piercing titanium arrowhead just outside the school a few days before, but things didn’t click until he’d thought to ask Isaac about that night they’d contained Boyd and Cora.

“Allison didn’t want me to say anything, but—she was there. She helped me turn them back.”

Scott rotated the arrowhead between his fingertips. “Why didn’t she want you to say anything?”

“Probably the same reason that she and her father moved.”

“They _moved_?” Scott exclaimed.

Isaac’s eyes widened. “You didn’t know that?”

So it turned out Scott had been neglecting someone else—but this time, he had to make sure she didn’t get hurt. He’d texted Allison that he needed to see her, and he lied when she’d asked if he remembered where her new place was. He knew she’d told him, but he was embarrassed to have forgotten. To solve his dilemma, he followed her home after school, and though it was stalkerish, yes, it was important that he knew where she lived. It just was.

When Allison entered the upscale apartment building in the center of town, Scott thought the place looked awfully homey for an apartment complex. He waited a few minutes before entering, then realized it was a mistake to wait so long—there were multiple floors, and he had no idea which one Allison was on.

With the lobby empty, Scott focused on his sense of smell. As Allison’s mild perfume and subtle eucalyptus bath soap filled his nostrils, he was brought back to an earlier, happier time. Swallowing the bittersweet sensation flowing up from his stomach, he made for the elevator, where Allison’s scent only intensified.

Scott tried really, really hard not to have a physical reaction. When he tried to think of Isaac, that only made things worse. Letting out a deep breath, he forced himself to focus on the elevator buttons. Luckily for him, there were only five choices. Scott hovered his fingertips over the buttons, waiting for something to catch his attention, to jump out at him.

Nothing. He was at a loss.

Signing, he reached for his phone—just as it buzzed inside his pocket. It was a text from Allison.

_I’m on the 4th floor. 402 :)_

Scott laughed. Either he was a horrible stalker, or she was just _that_ good. He hit the button for the fourth floor and knocked on the right door. When there was no answer, he tried the knob and found that it was unlocked. Scott opened the door.

“Allison?” he called.

“Back here.”

After stepping inside and shutting the door behind him, he walked past the living room towards Allison’s voice. OK—this would be the first time they’d really talked in a while. This wasn’t going to be weird. He came into her room to see her sitting on her bed.

“So, finally come to tell me about you and Isaac?”

Scott swallowed. “What?”

Allison crossed her arms, a stern look on her face. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Um…”

Allison burst out laughing. Waving her hands, she said between laughs, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

Scott laughed, too. “You really had me going, there.”

“The look on your face was priceless!”

They laughed. After a moment, Scott cleared his throat. “Listen, I, um, I didn’t come here to talk to you about Isaac.”

He pulled out the arrowhead from his pocket. “I came to talk to you about this.”

***

_Coup de main_. Preemptive strike. What the hell was Derek thinking? Things were not going Scott’s way, and they were going to get worse very, very soon. He had to do something.

The problem was getting Isaac out of the way. Isaac didn’t need to worry about this. They were happy, and Scott didn’t want that to go away with new supernatural drama. He tried to think of a few fibs as they rode home from cross country practice, but since he and Isaac had gotten into a habit of riding home together, Scott’s mind would quickly wander as Isaac pressed his hands to Scott’s waist. It was a miracle, really, that Scott never crashed.

When they got home, they made for the kitchen for their usual drink of water.

“Is everything OK?” Isaac asked, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You just seem a little—tense. What’s on your mind?”

Isaac offered him the bottle of water. Smiling, Scott accepted before downing a quick gulp.

“You.”

Scott stepped towards Isaac and put the water bottle on the counter before leaning into him for a kiss. This wasn’t so unusual—if Scott’s mom wasn’t home, they pretty much got it on as soon as they stepped into the house—but this time, Scott felt a sense of urgency overtake him as he kneaded Isaac’s lips with his own. Pressing Isaac against the counter, Scott made active use of his tongue to pry his way into Isaac’s mouth.

As Isaac started to grunt and sigh, Scott felt really pleased with himself. Isaac was feeling—and tasting—exceptionally good at that moment. He was usually like this when Scott could surprise him like so.

Then he felt resistance. Isaac pushed him back a little. “Scott,” he uttered.

“What’s the matter?”

“We’re in the kitchen.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t we—go somewhere else? We…we eat here.”

Scott grinned. “Trust me. I’ve eaten everywhere in this house.”

Isaac’s sudden intake of breath was priceless. Scott closed the gap between them again and worked his hands under Isaac’s shirt as they resumed lip contact. He lifted the shirt and took his tongue to Isaac’s nipple.

“Oh God,” Isaac sighed.

Scott couldn’t help grinning. A flustered Isaac was a sexy Isaac. Scott continued to tongue-tickle Isaac while navigating the waistband of Isaac’s jeans. He tugged at them, unsnapping the button, before pulling down the zipper. Isaac liked to wear formfitting jeans, so Scott wondered how those monster erections fared in those things. It couldn’t have been very comfortable, so as much as Scott liked giving Isaac erections, he enjoyed liberating them even more.

When Scott dropped to his knees, he tugged on Isaac’s jeans and brought them towards the floor. Usually, they’d have taken off all of their clothes by now, but as Scott gazed up at Isaac, he found his half-nakedness exhilarating.

Isaac was grinning. “Oh my God,” he repeated. He was fully hard; his underwear was a mere formality at this point.

Scott buried his face into Isaac’s crotch and inhaled deeply, drawing another “Oh my God!” from Isaac. As chills ran down his back, Scott marveled at how fucking amazing Isaac smelled. The scent reminded him of vanilla, but with a touch of pepper, and here was where it was always most intense.

“Oh God, how do you do this to me?” Isaac breathed. “How do you always get me so worked up?”

Scott pulled down Isaac’s boxer briefs and teased the head of Isaac’s cock with his tongue. Scott tasted sweet slickness.

“Because you always let me do what I want to you,” Scott said.

As he locked eyes with Isaac, Scott widened his mouth and sheathed his lips around Isaac’s shaft.

***

OK, so Scott might’ve gotten a little distracted, but he made sure to show Isaac a good time. He worked slow, making an effort to stimulate every part of Isaac’s cock, and he took pride in his ability to lift Isaac towards that precipice without actually letting him go over the edge. Scott had gotten really good at sucking cock, and before long, Isaac was begging— _begging_ him for release.

See, whenever Isaac said he was getting close, Scott would pause, pull back slightly, and simply utter, “Not yet.”

Scott loved Isaac’s energy, although Isaac had a tendency to shoot early. Most of the time, though, Isaac would be back up and ready for round two—or three if Scott’s mom had the night shift. He liked Isaac’s enthusiasm, but Scott wanted him to build his stamina. He wanted to make it last, because the longer he waited, the better the release ultimately was. He learned that with Allison, and now, he was gonna teach Isaac.

After a few declarations of “not yet,” Isaac was practically whimpering.

“Oh God, oh Scott, please… Please let me come, baby. I wanna give you my come so bad.”

This time, Scott obliged him, and when that orgasm finally exploded through Isaac’s manhood, Isaac cried out with such strength that the floor shook and his come practically smashed against the back of Scott’s throat. Scott did his best, but there was just too much come to contain, and a lot of it seeped past his lips and dribbled down his chin. Oh well—he’ll get it all next time.

He stood and they kissed, and Isaac made deliberate use of his tongue. Yes, Scott had been distracted, but it was for a good cause.

Isaac was sweating through his T-shirt, which made Scott grin. “This one’s on me.”

He made a face. “What?” Isaac complained.

“I need a favor,” Scott said, the gears in his mind spinning and everything clicking at once. “I forgot to get a book from the library, and I promised my mom I’d do the grocery shopping today. Of course, I also forgot about the essay due tomorrow in Ms. Blake’s class.”

“Mmm hmm,” Isaac uttered. “I suppose it’s up to me to save the day again, is it?”

“Yes. You know how slow I write, so if there’s any chance of us getting any cuddle time in tonight—”

Isaac held up his hands. “Say no more. Let me just rinse off real quick and I’ll be on my way.”

Scott pecked him on the lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_. But,” Isaac glanced towards Scott’s crotch, “you sure you’ll be all right?”

Scott was still sporting some major wood. “It can wait. I like waiting.”

Chuckling, Isaac said, “OK.” He pulled up his pants and trotted up the stairs. “I owe you a blow job!” he called back down. Scott laughed.

A part of him, a big part, felt bad about deceiving him like this, but he knew Isaac would not let him go alone, and Scott did not want to make it seem like he was spearheading an ambush. When Isaac finished showering, Scott gave him a title that he knew the library didn’t have, and when Isaac texted him the bad news, Scott asked him to try the bookstore.

As Scott changed outfits and gathered his wits, he sat on his bed, trying to think through all the possible scenarios. Deucalion was definitely the one in control. He would contain the other alphas—if he were left alive. Perhaps this was Scott’s way in—Deucalion had to be open to reason. Did the other alphas answer to him because they respected him?

Or was it because they feared him?

Scott didn’t have anymore time to think. He had to try something. Standing, he put on his jacket and picked up his helmet. He turned—

Scott jolted, gasping. “Oh!”

Isaac was in the doorway. Clearly, Scott wasn’t the only one who could surprise people.

“Where’re you going?”

“Uh, j‘st...I—was gonna go—get some food to eat!”

“Cool. I’ll come with you.”

“Wh—nah, dude, I can eat alone. I need to focus on this essay.”

“What are you getting?”

“Uh… Mexican?”

“Dude, I love Mexican. Let’s—”

“Isaac.” Scott reached for him. “I can eat alone. It’s OK.”

Isaac shook his head. The jig was up. “You’re not going alone. Come on.”

Despite the trouble he went through to get Isaac away, Scott found himself feeling grateful for Isaac’s stubbornness as they settled onto the motorcycle together. When they set off, he had a feeling he would need all the help he could get.


	12. Isaac does Scott a favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac tries to keep an eye on Boyd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January is coming so fast. Eeek!

Isaac knew they were lucky. Thank God he’d gone with Scott—they’d barely made it out of that deathtrap alive. Dear sweet Scott—Isaac’s heart was breaking for him. They were both hurt, but the way Scott simply uttered, “I can’t,” when they made it back to the bike, Isaac was grateful for Allison’s impromptu motorcycle lesson. Yet another way that she’d saved them both.  
  
He didn’t have time to think about how he owed Allison his life, though. He practically had to carry Scott into the house and up to his room. Scott wasn’t limp—it was more than that. He just seemed—broken.  
  
He sat Scott on the bed and moved to get some gauze from the bathroom. The twins had gotten Scott pretty badly, and he was bleeding through his jacket. Isaac returned with gauze, some rubbing alcohol, and a wet cloth. He lifted Scott’s shirt and tried his best to clean the wound.  
  
“This is from an alpha. It’s gonna take longer to heal, isn’t it?”  
  
Scott didn’t answer.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
He had a blank look on his face, almost as if he were sleepwalking. Isaac repeated his name, but he still didn’t respond. When Isaac tried to bandage the wound, Scott clutched his wrist.  
  
“Don’t.”  
  
Finally, he seemed to be coming back, but then Isaac realized the shock was probably wearing off. As Scott’s eyes started to well, Isaac felt something inside of him fracture.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
“It’s all my fault.”  
  
Isaac sat beside him and held him close with his good arm, his other arm still smarting. He held him tightly, but that didn’t stop the sobs from coursing through Scott. As he cried, he just kept repeating it over and over: “It’s all my fault.”  
  
Isaac tried to quiet him, but he couldn’t stop his own tears from falling. “It’s not your fault, Scott. It’s not your fault.”  
  
He repeated it through the evening until Scott finally exhausted himself and fell asleep in his arms. After gently laying him back, Isaac dressed Scott’s wound and stood to remove his own dirty, bloody clothes. He lay back beside Scott and held him close.  
  
It was Derek’s own damn fault that he died. As exhausted as he was, Isaac knew he wouldn’t sleep. He couldn’t—he had to keep watch.  
  
It was his turn to keep the nightmares away.  
  
***  
  
Isaac finally understood why Derek had sent him away. A pack of alphas that made its members kill their entire pack—and they wanted Derek? Isaac wondered why Derek just hadn’t been upfront about this instead of sending him away so callously. Was Derek too emotionally stubborn to admit that he was looking out for Isaac? Was he too proud to admit that he couldn’t protect Isaac?   
  
Isaac had cut Derek a lot of slack. He never blamed Derek for Erica’s death. He never complained when Derek had only given him the floor to sleep on—at least he had a roof. He never held it against him when Derek broke his bones. But when Derek threw that glass at him, Isaac had written him off before he even stepped into the rain that night.  
  
He didn’t want to mourn Derek—not like this. Not after he’d already put his former alpha behind him. Not after Erica. Not after his father, or his mother. When Cam died, Isaac was so young, the words “grief” and “mourning” didn’t even enter his mind. He couldn’t articulate the emotions, but he’d felt them—and he couldn’t even begin to grapple with them.  
  
He didn’t want to mourn Derek, but the clawing at the back of his throat would not relent. He just kept thinking of the tragically conflicted character that was Derek Hale and that evoked Erica and his father and his family and he just could not stop the tears as he lay awake beside Scott.  
  
It took every ounce of restraint Isaac had to keep from sobbing. Though he couldn’t stem the tears, he wanted nothing less than to wake Scott. As he watched him sleep, Isaac felt time stand still. Scott was so beautiful. He was beautiful all the time, really, but Isaac had never stayed up to watch him sleep before. He didn’t seem completely serene, but he didn’t look upset, either. The only time Scott stirred was to nestle closer to Isaac, and he wrapped his arms around him freely.  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Isaac whispered, sniffling. “It’s not your fault.”  
  
Isaac swallowed hard as an agonizing pang nearly clawed its way past his throat, and it took all he had to keep from crying out.  
  
“It’s my fault,” Isaac uttered.  
  
***  
  
“Isaac.”  
  
He awoke instantly to the sound of Scott’s voice. Jolting, Isaac opened his eyes to see Scott standing before him.  
  
“We’re gonna be late. Hurry.”  
  
Isaac sat up and groaned. His body still had a few aches, but he wasn’t tired. When had he fallen asleep?  
  
“Was last night—was that a dream?”  
  
Scott shook his head. “No,” he said solemnly, “but we’ve got to get to school. We can’t let what happened throw off our routine.” He turned and started to walk away.  
  
“Scott. Scott, wait!” Isaac stood up.  
  
“We don’t have time.”  
  
“Scott, wait.” Isaac ran in front of Scott before he could get to the door and grabbed his shoulders. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Scott uttered towards the floor.  
  
“Scott.” Isaac didn’t need a heartbeat to tell Scott was lying. He grasped Scott’s face and tilted it up towards him.  
  
Isaac’s heart dropped. It wasn’t just that Scott’s eyes were bloodshot—they were just so, so sad.  
  
“I feel horrible,” Scott whispered, “but I can’t fall apart right now. Not when we have school.”  
  
Isaac let his instincts take over and he simply embraced Scott. Wrapping his arms tightly around Scott’s shorter frame, Isaac inhaled deeply and got a whiff of Scott’s sad smell, and it was a terrible smell—one that reminded him of tar.  
  
“Isaac,” Scott uttered, “I love you, and I know what you’re trying to do, but I—I can’t fall apart right now, and if you keep holding me like this, I’m going to.”  
  
Isaac let go and they parted. “Sorry, I just—”  
  
“No,” Scott interrupted. “I like being in your arms. It makes me feel like I can be myself and I can just let my emotions flow and that I can be vulnerable and real but—I can’t be those things right now.”  
  
“I understand.”  
  
Scott attempted a smile, then pecked him on the lips. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”  
  
After Isaac took a quick shower, got dressed, and scarfed down a cereal bar for breakfast, he hopped on the motorcycle with Scott and they made for the school. When they arrived, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Kids were strolling in. Cars were parking. It was just another day at Beacon Hills High School.  
  
“I don’t know who’s going to be at school today,” Scott said as they parked the bike.  
  
“You think any of them will come?”  
  
“I dunno about Cora or the twins, but Boyd might. Keep an eye out for him, OK?”  
  
“Why Boyd in particular?”  
  
“Because Boyd has a temper.”  
  
Isaac didn’t manage to catch Boyd at his locker throughout the day, and since they didn’t have any classes together this semester, he wondered if Boyd had taken the day off to cool down.  
  
He did see Ethan, however. He was with Danny at Danny’s locker as Isaac was on his way to chemistry. He made eye contact with Ethan, and while Ethan lost his smile, Isaac did his best to remain stone-faced.  
  
He’d fully intended on simply walking by them, but Danny called out to him.  
  
“Isaac!”  
  
Isaac stopped. “Danny.”  
  
“My tips go all right for you and Scott? You guys seem really happy together.”  
  
Although a sneer crept onto Ethan’s face, Danny seemed genuinely curious, if not harmless. Then again, Isaac didn’t know Danny very well.  
  
“Yeah, I think so.”  
  
“Good. Let me know if you wanna surprise Scott with a few things he might like.”  
  
OK, Danny’s grin had definitely been mischievous, but Isaac had devoted most of his attention to Ethan. Where was Aiden? Isaac suspected, but could not substantiate, that they were weaker when they were apart. Isaac wished he had a way to test out that theory.  
  
Scott found Isaac just after their last period of the day at Isaac’s locker.  
  
“Isaac.” Scott seemed panicked.  
  
“What’s up?”  
  
“Boyd is here today. And Ethan. Did you see Aiden?”  
  
“No, I didn’t.”  
  
“Well, we have that meet today.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Yeah, I totally forgot about it, too, but it’s gonna be a long bus ride. I need you to stick with Boyd—keep him in line. Make sure he doesn’t do anything rash.”  
  
“You really think he will?”  
  
Scott sighed. “I didn’t even have to get near him—he’s fuming. He’s simmering. The slightest thing could set him off.”  
  
Isaac swallowed. “If he’s that angry, I’m not sure if I could do him any good.”  
  
“You’re his friend, too. I’ll step in if I have to, but all I think he really needs right now is a friend.”  
  
Isaac took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best.”  
  
After he gathered his gear and made for the front of the school, Isaac caught up to Boyd as they waited to board the bus. He understood right away what Scott had meant when Isaac smelled the acidic and bitter anger emanating from Boyd.  
  
Isaac decided not to beat around the bush as he noticed Ethan and Danny ahead of them. “So, are you as pissed about this as I am?”  
  
Boyd regarded him skeptically. “What? The meet, or what happened?”  
  
“Both.”  
  
“Personally, I’m glad about the meet.”  
  
“Why’s that?”  
  
“The twins are separated—for once. The meet would be the perfect place to take another one of ‘em out.”  
  
“You’re not serious, are you?”  
  
Boyd merely gave him a stoic look in response. As they boarded the bus, Isaac was worried about Boyd leaving him behind, but luckily, Boyd sat beside him when Isaac picked an open seat towards the front. Ethan and Danny were in the middle, and Scott and Stiles were towards the very back. When Isaac glanced behind him, he met Scott’s eyes and Scott nodded towards him.  
  
Once everyone had boarded, Coach gave them some meandering speech that Isaac tuned out and they set off. The most he caught was that it was going to be a long trip—at least a couple of hours. He and Boyd didn’t say much to each other until they were out of Beacon Hills. By then, he had become slightly irritated by Boyd’s bitter, metallic anger rolling off in waves.  
  
A boom of thunder bellowed in the distance. “Stop thinkin’ about it, man,” Isaac said.  
  
“What? You’re not thinking about it, too?”  
  
“We’ll both stop thinking about it.”  
  
“I can’t.”  
  
“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it, either.”  
  
“You sure about that?”  
  
Isaac sighed, glancing back out towards the road. “Derek wasn’t exactly alpha of the year. You might wanna think twice about following in his footsteps.”  
  
“How can you talk about him like that? Don’t you get why he did it?”  
  
“Because Derek likes to leap before he looks.”  
  
“Because Deucalion forced his hand,” Boyd snapped. “You _do_ know why he sent you away, right?”  
  
Isaac shook his head. “Maybe.”  
  
“It was because of Scott.”  
  
“Scott.”  
  
“Yeah. He knew how you felt about him—probably before you knew yourself—and you already know about how he tried to keep Scott out of this. He went after Deucalion to protect us, Isaac—to protect all of us. And he paid the ultimate price. So before you go on about how incompetent Derek was, _think_ about everything he’s done for us. Maybe even try to understand him.”  
  
Isaac was astonished by Boyd’s loyalty. “If that’s how you feel, why’d you and Erica run away, then, all those months ago?”  
  
Boyd seemed to falter slightly as his expression crept towards regret. “It was Erica’s idea. And look what happened to us.”  
  
That regret quickly transformed back into anger as Isaac noticed Boyd glance back towards Ethan. When the bus came to an abrupt stop, Isaac saw the line of stopped cars stretching into the mountains ahead of them.  
  
Isaac pulled out his phone in an effort to change the subject. After a quick search of traffic, he remarked, “There’s a jackknifed tractor a few miles ahead. We could miss the meet.”  
  
Boyd began to growl.  
  
“Boyd? Boyd.”  
  
Isaac noticed Boyd’s claws beginning to sprout as Boyd gripped the seat ahead of them. Shit—this was not the way to keep Boyd calm.  
  
“Boyd, don’t,” Isaac hissed. “Not here. Not like this.”  
  
From nowhere, Scott appeared and gripped Boyd’s arm.  
  
“Let—go!” Boyd growled.  
  
“You got a plan?” Scott demanded, kneeling beside him. “Tell me—your brilliant plan—and I’ll let go. What are you gonna do? Kill him? Right here? And then what? What are you gonna do after that?”  
  
“I don’t care.”  
  
When Boyd made a move, Isaac grabbed Boyd and helped Scott keep him seated.  
  
“Stop it,” Isaac mouthed silently.  
  
“I do,” Scott said.  
  
Isaac saw the splotch of dark red behind Scott’s jacket. “Whoa, whoa! You’re still hurt!”  
  
“I’m fine,” Scott uttered. “Give me a chance to figure something out—something that doesn’t have to end with someone else dying.”  
  
Boyd’s claws retracted. “OK.”  
  
When Boyd seemed to be mollified, Scott returned to his seat. Isaac, however, felt a sharp pit of anxiety embed itself into his stomach—Scott was still hurt and clearly still bleeding. What had Scott done to Isaac’s bandages? Did he just rip it off assuming it would heal?  
  
Isaac glanced back towards Scott and Stiles, but their attention seemed to be fixed on Ethan and Danny. Isaac pulled out his phone to text Stiles.  
  
 _Scott is still hurt. We have to do something_.  
  
Stiles and Danny seemed to be having some phone war, so a response didn’t come until after Stiles had finished whatever plan he’d concocted with Danny.  
  
 _I kno. Lemme figure somethin out. Ennis is still alive_.  
  
That must’ve been what Stiles had just found out from Danny. Isaac texted back, _For how long?_ but received no response. They had to do something for Scott, but Isaac realized just how much they had in their way when Coach went on another spiel about not missing the meet, even with a traffic jam and minor tornado warning in their way. Stiles tried to persuade coach to stop, but to no avail.  
  
“Seriously! It’s a little bus! _Stop_ asking me questions!” Coach screamed.  
  
Boyd seemed amused by Coach’s antics. Isaac blurted, “You’re fine, right?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Like, from the cuts and wounds from last night.”  
  
“Yeah. Aren’t you?”  
  
“Yeah. So why wouldn’t Scott be OK by now?”  
  
Boyd didn’t answer. Isaac overheard Stiles talking on the phone—Allison and Lydia were behind them, following them.  
  
“Do I have a Ph.D. in lycanthropy? How am I supposed to know that?” Isaac couldn’t make out what Allison and Lydia were saying through the tinny speaker of the phone. “Yeah, I’ve been trying,” Stiles went on. _“Reason?_ Have you—met this guy?”  
  
When Stiles hung up, Isaac felt bad for him, for the spectacle that was sure to come. He caught Stiles’ attention when he stood and Isaac shook his head, but Stiles merely shrugged.  
  
“What else am I supposed to do?” he mouthed.  
  
“Get back to your seat, Stilinski!” Coach yelled, and met every one of Stiles’ attempts at reason with a blow of his godforsaken whistle. After one long and final whistle, he screamed at Stiles again to return to his seat.  
  
 _“OK!”_ Stiles shouted, turning towards his seat.  
  
“And Jared—keep your eyes on the horizon.”  
  
Isaac watched Stiles turn back around and the idea seemed to strike him at the same time that it came to Isaac. He turned to Boyd and patted him on the arm.  
  
“You might wanna brace yourself,” Isaac warned.  
  
***  
  
Poor Jared. Coach had been ragging on him the whole trip. Well, at least they got Coach to let them off the bus—not that he could stop them from leaping off as soon as the chunks started flying. Isaac hung back and watched Stiles lead Scott out of the emergency exit at the rear of the bus. They met Allison and Lydia and they walked Scott into the rest stop. Scott seemed barely conscious.  
  
Boyd had hung back with him. “They did that to him, Isaac. Now tell me—how can you not be angry? _How_ can you not—be— _pissed?”_  
  
Isaac felt his heartbeat quicken slightly as heat spread through his shoulders. Deucalion had commented last night on how he and Scott had shown up together, like he wasn’t surprised:  
  
“You didn’t come alone.”  
  
“Yeah. This is Isaac.”  
  
“You two are practically inseparable these days, aren’t you? I wasn’t talking about Isaac, though.”  
  
And then Derek appeared. He hadn’t thought much of it then, of that seemingly offhand remark, but now—a crushing realization dawned on Isaac as his rage quickly approached a boil. If his feelings for Scott were obvious to Derek, then who else could they have been obvious to?  
  
“Unless you two are planning to help me clean up, I suggest you get off the bus,” Coach reprimanded them, jolting Isaac from his thoughts.  
  
Boyd tugged at Isaac’s arm. Just before stepping off the bus, Isaac grabbed Scott’s bag out of instinct. Isaac started for the rest stop when he caught Ethan smirking at him from beside a tree just a few yards away from the bus.  
  
“Isaac,” Ethan whispered, but he could hear his voice as if he were inside his head. Isaac stopped. “You really love him, don’t you?”  
  
Isaac glared back at him.  
  
“Don’t worry. When we tear him limb from limb, we’ll be sure to make you watch.”  
  
A growl escaped his throat, which only made Ethan grin.  
  
Stiles and Lydia appeared.  
  
“Great, I need that!” Lydia said, yanking Scott’s bag from Isaac’s grip before dashing back to the rest stop.  
  
“What’s happening with Scott?” Isaac demanded.  
  
“Allison’s trying to stitch him up.”  
  
“What? Why?” Isaac exclaimed.  
  
“It’s—he’s…it’s something with his head. He’s not—”  
  
“Is he dying?”  
  
When Stiles hesitated, that was all it took for the simmering rage to explode inside of Isaac. He looked back towards Ethan, who was still watching him with a smirk, and Isaac started barreling towards him. As a brief look of surprise swept Ethan’s face, Isaac screamed and leapt on top of him before landing the first punch.  
  
He was going to wipe that smile off that motherfucker’s face. He was going to make sure that asshole never smiled again. Isaac felt his skin burn—and the only way to quench that fire was to strike Ethan’s face with his fist again—and again. And again. A sweet surge of pain shot up his arm with each punch, but it was nothing compared to the succulent sound Ethan’s face made when he struck him. Isaac felt someone try to pull him back. No! Isaac wasn’t finished yet—far from it.  
  
The motherfucker just would not stop smiling! What was wrong with this sick, sadistic bastard? What would he have to do? Rip his fucking jaw off?  
  
 ** _“ISAAC!”_**  
  
All sound stopped as Isaac stayed his fist. A voice hit him like a roll of thunder, but it took him a few seconds to realize what was happening. People had surrounded him in a circle. Everyone was staring at him. Yet, even the shame of being eyeballed as a freak by the whole cross country team couldn’t dampen the immense relief that washed over him when he saw who was standing before him.  
  
Scott. He was OK.  
  
Isaac struggled to catch his breath and attempted a smile, but such a small gesture could not contain the emotions welling up inside of him. He launched himself at Scott and embraced him heartily.  
  
“You’re OK,” Isaac whispered. “You’re OK.” He caught Allison’s gaze as she stood behind them; though her expression was cryptic, he owed her his life yet again.  
  
“All right, all right, everyone back on the bus!” Coach cried out, then blew his whistle. “Let’s move it!”  
  
As people started to disperse, Isaac parted from Scott, and he tried not to focus on how one-sided their embrace had been.  
  
“Don’t—fall for that again,” Scott said harshly. “Don’t let him get under your skin. I asked you to look out for Boyd— _not_ do his dirty work for him.”  
  
Isaac felt himself deflate. He was utterly crestfallen. “But, Scott…”  
  
Coach blew his whistle again. “That means you, Lahey!” he shouted, grabbing Isaac’s shoulder. “I don’t care whatever you’ve got between you and Ethan, but _save it_ for _after_ the meet. Now move it!”  
  
They boarded the bus. Allison and Lydia joined Scott and Stiles near the back of the bus, Allison with Scott and Lydia with Stiles. Boyd sat next to Isaac again as the bus set off, but they said very little to each other.  
  
“You have to admit,” Boyd said a little while after the bus started moving, “that felt good, didn’t it?”  
  
Isaac didn’t answer. He heard his name behind him, and despite himself, he couldn’t stop from eavesdropping.  
  
“So, are you really OK with me and Isaac?” Scott was asking Allison.  
  
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“You’re not weirded out by it at all?”  
  
“No, not anymore. I was at first, but, seeing you together—it makes sense.”  
  
Scott laughed. “I was probably too hard on him, wasn’t I?”  
  
“Maybe just a little. He obviously cares about you a lot. I don’t blame him for his reaction.”  
  
A little while after their conversation wound down, Isaac heard Scott’s voice inside his head.  
  
“Isaac, can you hear me?”  
  
He nodded, Scott’s voice sending chills down his spine.  
  
“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”  
  
“I’m sorry too,” Isaac whispered, “for losing control again. You should’ve heard the things he said about you.”  
  
“It’s OK. Look, he’s gonna try to push your buttons. He wants you to lose control. I’m begging you, though—next time that happens, just think of me, all right? Don’t let him control you—any of them.”  
  
“OK, I promise—I’ll stay in control.”  
  
“Good. I love you.”  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
Isaac looked back towards Scott, who smiled at him, then stuck out his tongue. Isaac laughed.  
  
“Get a room, you two,” Boyd said.


	13. Scott's worst nightmares come true

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this definitely won't be finished before the new season starts, alas. But--I do think this chapter's timing is apt with what has been shown of the rest of the season. Happy new year!

An empty parking lot. A sickly, clashing color scheme. A neon sign trying to glamorize things with fancy letters. Who were they kidding? There was no touching up _this_ place. As the team gathered outside the bus to wait for Coach to return with keys, Scott hoped it was just the bus making things look—awful.  
  
When he and Stiles joined the rest of the team, Scott realized—it wasn't the bus.  
  
“I’ve—seen worse.”  
  
 _“Where_ have you seen worse?”  
  
Coach blew the whistle to announce the meet had been postponed and that they were to pair up because they would be spending the night at this godawful place. As Stiles lined up with the rest of the team to grab keys, Scott spotted Isaac coming towards him—only to have Coach blow his whistle once more.  
  
“Don’t even _think_ about it, Lahey!”  
  
Isaac grimaced, stopping just a few feet from Scott. Isaac looked at him, but Scott could only shrug. He followed Isaac’s gaze towards Ethan and Danny behind them to find Ethan smirking at Isaac. OK, so maybe Scott was a little jealous, but he looked back at Isaac and smiled.  
  
“It's OK. I'll come and see you in a bit.”  
  
“I still owe you a blow job, you know,” Isaac whispered with a grin.  
  
Scott felt his cock twitch. “OK, I will _definitely_ come and see you later.”  
  
Stiles cleared his throat and Scott turned around to see him with their room key.  
  
“Didn't we talk about this, Isaac?” Stiles said. “You get Scott during the day and I get him on nights and every other weekend. Come on, now.”  
  
Isaac looked confused. “Wasn’t it the other way around?”  
  
So Isaac went back with Boyd while Scott and Stiles walked up to room 213. Just before Stiles got the door open, Scott spotted Allison and Lydia checking into a room on the other side of the motel. Allison looked towards him and they met each other’s eyes. She gave him a small smile, and he obliged her with one in return. What a difference just a few months could make.  
  
Scott followed Stiles into the room and they set their stuff down before lying back on their respective beds. Scott sighed; they couldn’t put it off any longer.  
  
“OK, so—how many do you have?”  
  
***  
  
Could he have imagined it? For a split second, Scott could’ve sworn that his pupils had turned—red. Something wasn’t right. He had to check on—  
  
Allison.  
  
“Scott! What are you doing?”  
  
Running water. Shower. Allison—naked.  
  
“Are you OK?”  
  
Scott had no memory of the past few—minutes, hours? What the hell was he doing?  
  
“Yeah, I was—um…” What was he supposed to say? He could only back away. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”  
  
He drifted through the motel room until he was outside again in the brisk night air. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d found his way; he still felt lost. Then he remembered seeing Allison across the parking lot as they checked into their rooms and realized that his was on the other side of the motel.  
  
As he trekked back across the walkway and rounded the corner, Scott waited for his memory to return to him. It was a long way to walk—had he been sleepwalking? How could he not remember coming all this way?  
  
 _“I’ve seen you naked before.”_  
  
The words hit him like a wall. Scott had to grab the railing to steady himself.  
  
 _“OK, well, remember—we’re kind of not together anymore.”_  
  
 _“We’re still friends, right? We could just be closer friends.”_  
  
Scott wanted to back away, but he was only moving closer.  
  
 _“Maybe—you could even fix things between us.”_  
  
He saw his hand reaching for hers.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
Jolting, Scott spun around.  
  
“Isaac?”  
  
The boy was smiling. “Glad I’m not the only one that can happen to.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Isaac’s smile faded quickly as he drew closer. “Are you all right? You look pale.”  
  
Scott took a step back—he couldn’t help it—as Isaac reached for him. Isaac froze.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
Isaac’s confusion flared up into full-fledged fear; Scott could smell it. He just couldn’t understand what was happening.  
  
“What are you doing?” _What are you doing?_  
  
“I—I was just coming to see you,” Isaac whispered, his bravado completely dissipated.  
  
Scott felt the words coming out of his mouth, but he meant those words for himself.  
  
“Why?” _You don’t deserve him._  
  
“What do you mean, why?” Isaac swallowed. A burst of bitter sadness caught Scott’s nose.  
  
“Why would you come to see me?” _Remember—we’re kind of not together anymore._  
  
Isaac laughed. “I see what you’re doing. Trying to play hard-to-get, huh?” He stepped towards him.  
  
“Don’t,” Scott blurted. _You’ll only hurt him._  
  
“OK, what’s going on?” Isaac reached for him.  
  
“I said, _don’t!”_  
  
Isaac cringed, snapping his hand away. He stared at Scott, and Scott could only stare back at him. They were utterly lost.  
  
“Just, just leave me alone. Please.” _You hurt everyone._  
  
He spun around and walked away, back towards his room. He couldn’t bear to see Isaac like that any longer. _You can't save anyone._  
  
Scott staggered down the walkway towards his room. He reached for the doorknob—only to find that the door was already ajar.  
  
“Stiles?”  
  
Silence. The door creaked as Scott pushed it open.  
  
“Stiles?” _He’s coming for you_.  
  
He smelled it before he saw it. Acrid, bitter, metallic. Instinctively, he looked towards the bathroom, where a pool of something was slowly seeping into view past the doorjamb. Something thick and oozing that was gradually flowing towards the bathtub. Something red.  
  
Blood.  
  
“Stiles…?” _You’ll get them all killed._  
  
As Scott stepped towards the bathroom, the smell intensified exponentially. By the time he reached the doorway, he was drowning. He had no air in his lungs to cry out from the horror awaiting him.  
  
Stiles crumpled against the wall. Sitting in a pool of blood. Blood dripping from his mouth. Seeping through his shirt. He looked up at him.  
  
“Scott.” _There’s no hope_.  
  
A familiar ringtone. His phone was ringing. Scott looked towards the sound for just a second, and when he looked back at Stiles—he was gone. The blood, the smell, vanished.  
  
He had no time to wait. It could’ve been somebody important. As he dashed across the room, he saw that his mother was calling. He answered.  
  
“Hey mom. What’s up?”  
  
No answer.  
  
“Mom?”  
  
“Scott…” His name trembled through the phone from unsteady vocal cords.  
  
“Mom, what’s wrong?”  
  
He could hear her heart beating against his own eardrums. She was terrified. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “he just came in the house. I tried to stop him… I’m sorry!”  
  
“Who? Mom, mom—where are you?”  
  
“Outside. Look outside.”  
  
He made for the window.  
  
“Scott.” Another voice—Deucalion—his claws against his mother’s throat in the parking lot. “Can you hear me?”  
  
“What do you want?” _You can’t save her._  
  
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re an alpha now, Scott.”  
  
“I’m not, I’m not! Derek, Derek could still be alive! He could—”  
  
“He’s _dead_. You know he is. So now, I’m coming for you. You and—everyone you love. I’m coming for _all of them.”_  
  
Claws slashed across her throat like tears through a curtain. Too fast, nothing he could do as his mother crumpled to the ground. _You’ll kill them all._  
  
“Hey, Scott, you OK?”  
  
He turned towards the voice behind him. Stiles, a toothbrush in hand. No blood on his shirt or chin.  
  
Scott looked back towards the parking lot. Empty. _There is no hope._  
  
He looked towards his phone. The last call had been fifty-two seconds. And Stiles was gone.  
  
Scott leaned against the window. He swallowed.  
  
“You’re right. There is no hope.”  
  
He turned from the window to find dirt beneath his shoes. The carpeted floor was now blackened, ashen earth. Instead of the walls, a vast expanse of toppled, charred trees littered the ground around him.  
  
Scott—knew this place. He had been here before. What happened? Despite himself, he felt himself moving forward, a part of him able to avoid the broken bark still simmering on the ground. The sky was white, but there was no sun, no moon, and he could not tell whether it was night or day.  
  
The worst part—the worst part wasn’t the total obliteration of color. It wasn’t the temperature dropping to near freezing—despite all the simmering fire. It was the smell of death filling his nostrils, forcing bile into his throat. Rotting, putrid, pungent death—everywhere.  
  
Scott continued to walk, though he had no way to discern which way he was going. No matter which way he looked, it all looked the same. Charred, burned death.  
  
Until a hand shot out of the ground and grabbed his leg. Screaming, Scott stumbled backwards and tripped over a tree stump—only to have another hand spring out of the ground right beside his head. Scott cried out again and tried to right himself, but another hand reached out from the earth and caught his arm. He shook his arm free before it could fully clutch him and he jumped to his feet to start running.  
  
The hands and arms seemed to be erupting from the ground all around him. Scott spotted something in the distance, something large and flat. As he got closer, he realized it was a large tree stump, large enough that he could stand on to avoid the hands reaching for him. They were following him like worms—snakes—in the ground; he felt them clawing at his pant legs and his sneakers as he ran.  
  
As he neared the stump, Scott tumbled to the ground, exhausted. With hands coming at him from all directions, he scrambled on his hands and knees towards the stump.  
  
“No, no!” he screamed as the hands clamped down on his limbs. He kicked and swung, finally reaching the stump, but he couldn’t climb it—one hand had his leg caught, and he had to kick it repeatedly before he freed himself.  
  
As Scott climbed the stump, he realized just how massive it was—massive enough to keep him out of reach from all the undead hands. He just had to lie there for a moment to catch his breath.  
  
Then he looked up, and he wished he hadn’t. When he saw it, the soul-crushing horror descended on him like a bird of prey. He stood, like a moth drawn to a flame, to take it all in.  
  
Hundreds—maybe thousands—of hands were reaching up from the ground. All around him. All of them clamoring desperately, frantically, for him.  
  
A hand grabbed his shoulder. Scott shouted and spun around.  
  
Derek.  
  
He was drenched. He had a lit flare in his hand. The smell struck Scott—gasoline?  
  
“There’s no hope, Scott,” Derek uttered.  
  
He dropped the flair. “No!” Scott cried out, but it was too late. In an explosive burst of fire, Derek was nothing.  
  
Nothing but ash.  
  
Jolting, Scott found himself before the school bus. He was standing. Looking down at himself, he saw that his hands were trembling. He couldn’t get them to stop. When he looked up, he saw that the door to the bus was open and he spotted an overturned box under the driver seat. Beside it was a red gas can.  
  
That was when he smelled it again—gasoline. When the noxious smell filled his lungs, he realized what he had to do—and a weight finally lifted off his shoulders. It was as if he had been suffering his whole life, and now, _now,_ he would finally have relief.  
  
Relief. Oh, God, what a word—what a feeling. Yes, oh God, yes—it would finally, _finally_ all be over soon.  
  
“You’re right,” Scott uttered. “There is no hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scott chapters tend to be shorter than Isaac chapters. Hmm, we'll see if that holds up later.


	14. Isaac relives old nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I hope the length makes up for the wait.

“This place sucks.”  
  
Isaac watched Boyd slap the dust out of the pillows and sheets on his bed, launching a considerable amount into the air. Isaac eyed his own bed briefly before sitting down on it.  
  
“It’s not so bad, really,” Isaac said. He’d had worse, though when a roach crawled out from under Boyd’s bed, he began to reconsider. “At least there are beds.”  
  
Boyd gave Isaac a look. “Scott makes you sleep on the floor, too?”  
  
Isaac was about to answer when Boyd’s expression stayed his response. Boyd added, “That’s harsh, man.”  
  
They burst out laughing. “Seriously, though,” Boyd went on, “I’m happy for you guys.”  
  
Isaac was speechless. “Thank you,” was all he could manage.  
  
Boyd sat on the bed. “Look, I just hope you don’t hate Derek for what he did.”  
  
“Hate him? I don’t hate him.” Isaac inhaled deeply. “Look, I—I get it now. I really do.”  
  
“I confronted him about it, you know,” Boyd said with a sigh. “After I found out about it.”  
  
“You did?”  
  
He nodded. “I was expecting him to do his usual boneheaded thing and get angry about it, avoid it, but he didn’t. He just looked at me and said, ‘I did what I had to do,’ and that was it. He looked beaten. Actually, worse than that—he looked scared. That’s when I knew—what we were really up against.”  
  
“You’re not still planning on going after Ethan right now, are you?”  
  
“No. Not tonight, anyway. But the fact remains: it’s not going to end here.” Boyd let out a long sigh. “I’m gonna try to grab something from the vending machine. You want anything?”  
  
Isaac shook his head. “I’m OK.”  
  
Boyd stood and left. Once the room was empty, Isaac lay back on his bed and sighed. He knew what Boyd was getting at: a fight was coming. Where would Isaac be when the time came? He’d made a choice to be on the front lines not too long ago, but it seemed easier then. He had nothing to lose. Now that he had Scott…  
  
Was it any different? Scott had understandably tried to keep him out of the confrontation with Deucalion, but there was no way Isaac was going to let Scott go at it alone. Really, he didn’t want Scott to go at it at all, but could he really talk him out of it? Isaac doubted it. That just wasn’t who Scott was.  
  
Isaac sat up. Scott did say he would come to see him later. Hadn’t later already passed? Isaac was feeling antsy, and he wasn’t sure why. It felt like he hadn’t seen Scott in days—and he missed him. Wait, how long had it been, truly? Surely, less than twenty-four hours?  
  
He hopped to his feet and made for the door, convincing himself of the fact that Scott wouldn’t fault him for taking some initiative. Isaac opened the door and stepped outside. To his surprise, he didn’t have to look far.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
He spun around towards Isaac; he’d been leaning against the railing.  
  
“Isaac?”  
  
Isaac couldn’t help smiling. For once, he’d managed to sneak up on Scott. “Glad I’m not the only one that can happen to.”  
  
Scott’s expression twisted in confusion. “What?”  
  
Something was off. Scott’s heart rate was through the roof, and sweat was beading just above his forehead despite the brisk night air. “Are you all right?” Isaac asked, drawing closer. “You look pale.”  
  
When Isaac reached for him, Scott pulled away. “Scott?” It almost felt like a punch to the gut.  
  
“What are you doing?” Scott asked. Isaac saw him looking at him, but it didn’t seem like he was actually _seeing_ him.  
  
No—worse still—it was like Scott didn’t recognize him.  
  
“I—I was just coming to see you,” Isaac whispered.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“What do you mean, why?”  
  
“Why would you come to see me?”  
  
“Are we not together anymore or something?” Isaac laughed. “I see what you’re doing. Trying to play hard-to-get, huh?” He took another step towards Scott.  
  
“Don’t!”  
  
“Scott, are you hurt?” Isaac reached for him. “What’s going on?”  
  
“I said, _don’t!”_  
  
Cringing, Isaac yanked his hand back. He watched Scott stare back at him.  
  
“Just, just leave me alone,” Scott uttered. “Please.” He turned quickly from Isaac and walked away.  
  
Isaac was flabbergasted. “What did I do?” he whispered, even though Scott was gone. He folded his arms around his torso and looked around. Although he saw no one, he felt like he was being watched.  
  
His eyes drifted across the motel towards Allison’s room. The answer came to him like a worm crawling out of his throat. Despite his better judgement, Isaac charged towards her room, his instincts goading him on. Only one thing could explain Scott’s behavior. As the anticipation of an angry confrontation gnawed more insistently at his stomach the closer he got to the room, Isaac found his resolve collapsing. By the time he was at her door, he was trembling.  
  
When he thought again of how Scott had looked at him, Isaac took a deep breath and banged on the door. As he waited, he tried to calm himself and slow his heartbeat; he was almost positive that even somebody with normal hearing could hear his heart thumping against his chest.  
  
The door opened to reveal Allison, her hair freshly damp and her clothes wrinkled, like she had hastily thrown them on. “Isaac?”  
  
She must’ve been in the shower. Isaac swallowed, hard. He tried not to let all of the horrible, jealous thoughts of her and Scott together pervade his mind.  
  
“Can I come in?” Isaac uttered, his throat shaky.  
  
Sighing, Allison stepped aside. As Isaac entered the room, she said, “Not you, too.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Scott was just here.”  
  
A flare of anger burst through Isaac, making the skin down his back tingle. How dare she admit it so freely?  
  
“What did you do to him?”  
  
Allison scoffed. _“Me?_ I didn’t do anything to him.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
 _“Nothing_ happened.”  
  
Isaac heard it—the skip, or blip, of her heartbeat. “Don’t lie to me, Allison.”  
  
She threw up her hands. “What do you want me to say?” she exclaimed. “I can't even explain it to myself. He just came in here while I was in the shower and—”  
  
When Allison caught herself, Isaac suppressed an urge to shout. “And—what?” he whispered.  
  
Allison turned away from him and shrugged as she took a few steps. “He just—wasn’t himself.”  
  
“Did you ask him to come over? Was that it?”  
  
She turned back around to face him. “Isaac, no.”  
  
“Then what did he want?” he shouted, despite himself.  
  
“It doesn’t matter!” she replied, raising her voice, but not quite shouting. “He wasn’t himself, and clearly, you aren’t either.” She crossed her arms. “I think you should go.”  
  
Isaac swallowed and forced the trembles to still. “I'm only going to ask this once: stay away from Scott.”  
  
She gave him an ugly look. “Are you kidding me?”  
  
Whether it was a challenge or genuine incredulity, it tipped the simmering anger bubbling within Isaac to a boil.  
  
“Whenever he’s around you, he always seems to get hurt. Something bad always seems to happen! You’re a danger to him, and I’m not going to stand for it!”  
  
Allison forced a laugh. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve paid the price for them—believe me. Don’t you dare imply that I would ever do anything to hurt Scott.”  
  
“Maybe not intentionally—but who’s to say that the mistakes of your past won’t come back to haunt you? Or Scott?”  
  
“Oh, don’t start. You really think you can protect him? From these horrible sacrifices—or this alpha pack? Who was there, the night Boyd and Cora escaped? Who was there last night? Or today?  
  
“And don’t pretend that I’m the only one who puts Scott in danger. Why do you think the trail for Boyd and Erica went cold for months, and then suddenly, you find something? Huh?”  
  
“That’s not—”  
  
“They _wanted_ you to find them,” Allison interrupted. “They used you as a pawn to get Derek and Scott into that safe. They’ve always been two steps ahead, and everything they set into motion was to get them into that trap the night of the full moon. Lucky I managed to be at the right place at the right time, or Scott would’ve been killed that night!”  
  
Isaac felt a cold, bitter chill wash over him. “It was Derek who wanted to get into that safe so badly.”  
  
“To save Erica and Boyd, I imagine. And now he’s dead.” Allison turned away and sighed. “You want to protect Scott, Isaac? Work on becoming a better wolf.”  
  
The door opened and Isaac spun around to see Lydia enter the room, her hands full with towels. She eyed him, confused, but he shot out of the room before she could say anything.  
  
“What—was that about?” he overheard Lydia ask.  
  
“Nothing,” was Allison’s reply.  
  
Isaac staggered back towards his room. He couldn’t stop trembling, he was so livid. Livid—because Allison was absolutely right.  
  
***  
  
The television was on when Isaac reentered his room.  
  
“Boyd?”  
  
No response, save for the white noise of the television. The remote was on his bed, so unless the remote had grown legs and crawled up there, Boyd must’ve been back in the room. As Isaac sat on the bed, he realized Boyd must have gotten frustrated by the lack of decent programming—or any programming, for that matter.  
  
Isaac grabbed the remote and tried to change the channel. The TV didn’t respond. He raised the remote closer to the screen and tried again. Finally, the channel changed—190—but the screen didn’t. The white noise persisted. Channels 191, 192, 193 were all the same. As he kept going—195, 196—Isaac began to pick up something, a noise similar to the static, but not quite. 197, 198; it was the sound of running water. 199, 200; water streaming out of a shower head. 201—  
  
Isaac jolted when the water hit him. He was in a bathtub standing beneath the shower head as the water streamed down his body. He’d wanted a shower badly since they arrived, but he didn’t remember taking off his clothes or even getting into the shower. Whatever. The water was feeling really, really good.  
  
A hand reached around the shower curtain, startling Isaac. As it slowly drew the curtain open, a pair of mischievous brown eyes peeked through the gap. Isaac laughed.  
  
“Scott.” Isaac couldn’t see his mouth, but the crinkle around his eyes betrayed a grin. He also caught a glimpse of bare shoulder.  
  
“Oh, you must be busy. I’ll come back later.”  
  
When Scott released the curtain and disappeared, Isaac called out, “Scott—don’t you dare! I will chase you down.”  
  
“Wet and naked?”  
  
“Especially wet and naked.”  
  
“Think you could really catch me?”  
  
Isaac grinned to himself. “Maybe. Or, you know, I could just stay here—and pleasure myself. Without you.”  
  
The curtain swung open, revealing Scott. He was wearing a naughty grin—and nothing else.  
  
Isaac smiled back at him and uttered, “Mm hmm,” as Scott stepped into the shower. Isaac closed the curtain behind him and Scott pulled Isaac towards him, settling his hands just below the small of Isaac’s back.  
  
“That’s cheating,” Scott said through his grin.  
  
Isaac rested his hands across Scott’s shoulders. “What?”  
  
“It’s _my_ job to pleasure you.”  
  
“What took you so long, then?”  
  
Scott answered him with a kiss. They drew their bodies together and Isaac pulled Scott under the shower stream to let the water flow over them both. Scott, his body—feeling his skin against him like this—it was just what Isaac needed. He lifted his hands up to caress Scott’s neck and to run them through his hair.  
  
He had missed it at first, but Scott’s hair was longer than he remembered. Shaggier. Isaac pulled back, only to have Scott make an adorable whimper of complaint.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Isaac noticed his tattoo was gone, too. “Scott?”  
  
Scott forced a short laugh. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.  
  
A heavy thud sounded above them. Jolting awake, Isaac opened his eyes to find himself in bed. He wasn’t in the shower, he wasn’t naked, and he wasn’t with Scott. Isaac let out a long, tired sigh. He couldn’t even have a dirty dream in peace.  
  
More thudding. “Boyd?” Isaac uttered. He glanced across to the other bed, but it was empty.  
  
As the thudding continued, he looked back up at the squeaking ceiling fan spinning above him. The thuds weren’t regular enough to be footsteps. Then a few metallic clangs started to sound between the thuds, making him sit up. The noises sounded an awful lot like the thumps he’d hear when he was in the basement—locked in the basement—in his old house, but he wasn’t at his house. He was at a motel.  
  
 _Hand me the seven-sixteenths wrench_.  
  
His father. There were practically hundreds of wrenches before him. It didn’t matter. Regardless of what wrench he chose, he’d always be wrong. He grabbed one and handed it to his father, who only sighed.  
  
 _What the hell? This is the nine-sixteenths, you moron! You know what the difference between a seven and a nine is, dumbass!_  
  
Isaac knew what was coming, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “You mean the difference between a seven and a nine is? It’s a stripped bolt!”  
  
 _A stripped bolt?_  
  
It was exactly what Isaac had done—stripped the bolt—when he had attempted to fix the refrigerator door before his father found out. It was futile. He always found out.  
  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he lied. He had panicked, and just grabbed the wrong wrench. It didn’t matter, anyway. “What do you want me to do?”  
  
 _I want you to shut up!_  
  
It was useless. The door was beyond repair, now that his father had had a hand in it. “I want you to shut up. You shut up. You shut up!” He’d never been brave enough to say it then, and now he was. It still didn’t matter.  
  
“What can I do? I can’t fix this now. I can’t fix this now. I can’t fix it—I can’t fix it!”  
  
 _I can’t even keep it closed. Grab the chains._  
  
Isaac could hear the chains clanking around the freezer. “What? Grab the chains again?” He’d promised he’d stop. He’d promised he’d never do it again. It didn’t matter. It never mattered. “You said get in?”  
  
 _Are you not hearing me, son? Get in the damn freezer._  
  
 _Get in!_  
  
Never again. Isaac swore to himself—never again. He flung himself back on the bed and grabbed the pillow to drown out his father’s voice.  
  
It didn’t matter.  
  
The walls folded up around him. Isaac looked up, and the motel was gone—he was back in the freezer again. He screamed as the lid shut above him, drowning out all light and sound. He only had his breath and his heartbeat to tell him that he was still alive.  
  
“You promised. You promised! You said you wouldn’t do this anymore!”  
  
 _Don’t screw up next time, and I won’t have to._  
  
***  
  
Isaac counted his breaths to pass the time. When he lost count, or dozed off, he would start over again. Regardless of whether his eyes were open or closed, he saw the same thing: nothing. Blackness.  
  
It would be morning soon, or so he hoped. Isaac had no real way to tell, although he did start over on his count at least four times. The footsteps would thud above him, then down the stairs, and then his father would undo the chains on the freezer without a word. Isaac would wait for those footsteps to head back up the stairs before he’d lift the lid.  
  
Instead, when a ray of light pierced the blackness, a strange face appeared above him, a girl. Isaac cringed, and she disappeared. He had no idea what to make of it.  
  
Before he could start counting again, the light reappeared again to reveal another face—Stiles. What was Stiles doing here?  
  
“Hey Isaac. Got somethin’ here for ya.”  
  
A light brighter than a thousand suns vanquished the darkness just before a shock jolted Isaac, and he instinctively recoiled from the spark. He found himself rolling briefly before hitting something and coming to a stop—a wall. He was on the floor; he’d been under the bed.  
  
That didn’t matter, though. What mattered—he was free. He launched himself onto his feet, grateful that he could stretch, to regain his bearings. He was in his motel room and sweating profusely. Either that, or that shower really had been real, and he just never took off his clothes.  
  
Heavy breathing put Isaac on alert. He made for the bathroom to find Boyd sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and in the corner, a large safe lying on its side. Boyd was also soaking wet.  
  
“Are you all right?” Isaac asked. A lit flare was sparkling just beside the bathtub.  
  
Boyd gave him a quick glance before looking back towards the floor. He seemed to be catching his breath. “Aside from nearly drowning myself? Yeah, I’m all right.”  
  
Part of the tile floor was cracked and the safe had left a streaky black stain. Had Boyd flung the damn thing across the room?  
  
“Trapped in the freezer again?” Boyd remarked.  
  
Isaac exhaled deeply. “Something like that.”  
  
A sharp and peculiar smell caught Isaac’s nose. What was it?  
  
“Do you smell that?” Isaac asked.  
  
Boyd seemed to become more alert. Sniffing, he said, “Yeah. Smells like...”  
  
That was when it hit Isaac—the elevated heartbeats, the fear, the anxiety, all wrapped in a pungent odor of—  
  
“Gasoline,” Isaac said.  
  
When Boyd sprung up, Isaac launched himself at the door and stepped outside. Towards the center of the parking lot where Allison, Stiles, and Lydia were all standing, Scott stood while holding out a flare just like the one that was near Boyd. Scott was drenched, too, but something was off about the enormous puddle circling him.  
  
Isaac’s throat clamped shut as a debilitating realization clutched his shoulders, kicked him in the stomach, nearly made his knees buckle. He tried to deny it, but when he spotted the giant red container just a few feet from Scott, Isaac started running.  
  
“Isaac, wait!”  
  
He heard Boyd’s footsteps behind him, but Isaac didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not when Scott was about to—  
  
Boyd latched onto him just as Isaac reached the top of the stairs. “Let—let me go!”  
  
“Wait, Isaac, wait!” Boyd said, verging on a growl. Isaac struggled, but Boyd only strengthened his hold. “Don’t gang up on him—anything could push him over the edge. Just wait!”  
  
“Are you insane? I have—”  
  
“Just— _wait.”_  
  
Allison, Stiles, and Lydia seemed to be frozen in place, so perhaps Boyd was right. Isaac had no idea what he’d do once he got to Scott. Stiles and the others were in sight of Isaac and Boyd, but Scott had his back turned so that he couldn’t see Isaac—yet.  
  
“There’s no hope,” Scott uttered, his voice shaky and—broken.  
  
Allison had taken a few steps towards Scott. “What do you mean, Scott? There’s always hope!”  
  
“Not for me.” Scott shook his head. “Not for Derek.”  
  
Isaac wanted to scream, but his throat had clamped shut again. Boyd’s hold on him had not relented.  
  
“Derek wasn’t your fault,” Allison said. “You know Derek wasn’t your fault.”  
  
“Every time I try to fight back, it just gets worse,” Scott said, as if he hadn’t heard Allison at all. “People keep getting hurt. People keep getting killed.”  
  
“Scott, listen to me, OK?” Stiles interjected, slowly stepping towards Scott. “This isn’t you. All right? This is just someone in your head telling you to do this. OK?”  
  
“What if it isn’t? What if it is just me?” Scott could hear them. Isaac lurched forward, but Boyd was stronger than him. “What if doing this is actually—the best thing that I could do for everyone else?”  
  
Scott was trembling, almost like he was struggling for breath. Isaac felt strangled sobs escape his throat as tears began to drip past his cheeks.  
  
“It all started that night, the night I got bitten. You remember the way it was before that, you and me?” Stiles nodded slightly. Scott went on, “We were—we were nothing! We weren’t popular. We weren’t good at lacrosse. We weren’t—important. We were no one.”  
  
Isaac thought back to the first time he ever met Scott. It was shortly after their first day at Beacon Hills High, and Isaac was just roaming the hallways, trying to find his first period. He was totally lost, and it was the second or third time he had backtracked. A few kids were in the hallway, but not many, yet he was too shy to ask for directions. Part of him feared the older kids would purposely send him in the wrong direction. He was small then, still, and hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet. Everything about him screamed _freshman_.  
  
Then someone turned from his locker and purposefully looked in Isaac’s direction. He had shaggier hair back then, but those brown eyes had a charm and innocence that persisted to this day.  
  
 _Where do you need to go?_  
  
Scott had asked Isaac if he needed help and had actually pointed him in the right direction. Isaac meant to ask him if he remembered that day, but he doubted it; Isaac had looked so different back then.  
  
Isaac couldn’t lose the chance to ask him; he had to know—they still had so much left to do together.  
  
“Maybe I should just be no one again. No one at all!”  
  
“No,” Isaac wept. Scott wasn’t nobody. He was _never_ a nobody. Isaac noticed him then. He had to tell him—now.  
  
Isaac almost took a step down the stairs, but Boyd pulled him back. “Trust them,” he said. “Give them a chance. He needs them.”  
  
Isaac didn’t have the strength to fight Boyd. Despair was quickly sapping the strength in his muscles. As Scott slowly held out the flair, Isaac felt his heart stop. Isaac caught Stiles’ eyes briefly—his eyes were welling, too—and Isaac saw the faintest of nods from him. Never, in such a quick moment, had Isaac thought that so much could be said with so little.  
  
“Scott, just listen to me, OK?” Stiles approached Scott, step by arduous step. “You’re not no one, OK. You’re someone, you’re— Scott, you’re my best friend. OK? And I need you. Scott, you’re my brother. All right, so...”  
  
Stiles took a ginger step into the pool of gasoline surrounding Scott. A sharp, bitter chill sliced down Isaac’s back.  
  
“Oh God, Boyd,” Isaac uttered, “what if—what if—”  
  
“Isaac, if there’s anyone you can trust with Scott—it’s Stiles.”  
  
Isaac held his breath. He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to believe—more than anything—so he held his breath.  
  
Stiles set both of his feet in the gasoline. “If we’re gonna do this, then,” Stiles slowly grasped the flare in Scott’s hand. “I think you’re just gonna have to take me with you, then.”  
  
Stiles gradually slid the flare from Scott’s grip—and once it was free, Stiles tossed the flare across the parking lot. Isaac took a deep breath. He could breathe again. As Scott gasped for air, it seemed like he could breathe again, too.  
  
Isaac felt Boyd’s grip loosen, finally. Isaac used the moment to regain his composure when Lydia screamed, “No!” and ran towards Stiles and Scott. Isaac saw the four of them tumble to the ground just before an explosion of flame blinded him. When it dissipated, he was down the steps before Boyd could think to stop him again and sprinted to the others to help them up.  
  
He helped Lydia up first, who helped Stiles while Isaac gave Allison a hand. Scott had shifted and was sitting on the ground when he saw Isaac. They locked eyes for a moment, longer than Isaac had intended because he didn’t want to be towering over him—not with the way Scott was looking at him.  
  
Isaac knelt as soon as he realized it, but Scott was already croaking, “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”  
  
After placing a hand on Scott’s back and another on his chest, Isaac lifted him to his feet. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” Isaac said quietly, embracing him. He would not let Scott wallow anymore—not for something beyond his control.  
  
He made eye contact with Stiles and returned the subtle nod he’d given Isaac earlier. Isaac felt Allison’s eyes on him, but when he met her gaze, she immediately averted her eyes.  
  
When Scott stopped shaking, Isaac parted from him just as Boyd was coming up to them.  
  
“I don’t know about you guys,” he said, “but I’m sleeping on the bus.”  
  
Stiles was the first to burst out laughing, and Isaac and the others quickly followed suit. They gathered their things from the motel rooms and boarded the bus. As everyone claimed a bench towards the back to spread out on for the night, Isaac took a seat next to Scott, who gave him a small smile when he sat down.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Isaac said.  
  
Scott gave a few quick nods. “I’m—I’m OK.” In a whisper, he added, “For now.” Isaac moved to bring his arm around Scott, but Scott held his arm. “Remember, remember how I said I felt when—when you held me?”  
  
Isaac nodded, withdrawing his arm. He tried very hard to smile, but he didn’t feel it in his cheeks. He saw Scott look towards the back of the bus—towards Boyd, who looked completely lost in thought while Stiles, Allison, and Lydia had passed out for the night.  
  
“I think he could use a friend right now,” Scott said.  
  
Isaac started to slide off the seat, but before he got away, Scott grabbed him—and pulled him back for a kiss. His lips were slow, tender, and said everything that Scott couldn’t at that moment. It was a thank you, a promise, and an apology all wrapped in one, all touched with silk.  
  
Boyd didn’t seem to notice Isaac as he sat in the bench across from him.  
  
“I’ve been there before,” Boyd whispered after a beat.  
  
Isaac had not planned on saying anything at all. “What do you mean?”  
  
“If you’re pissed at me, fine, but just know that—I’ve been...” Boyd paused, and took a deep breath, “I’ve been there.”  
  
Isaac understood. Frankly, he was too exhausted to feel anything besides a desire for rest.  
  
“Thank you,” Isaac said.  
  
Boyd looked at him, then nodded.  
  
***  
  
Isaac awoke the next morning to Coach boarding the bus and announcing that the meet had been canceled, but that wasn’t the biggest news of the morning. Ethan sat beside Scott, said that Derek was most likely still alive, and gave him a heads up on what was to come.  
  
“Either he joins our pack—or Kali goes after him. And we kill him. That’s the way it works.”  
  
Isaac watched the tension lift from Scott’s shoulders only to return tenfold. He couldn’t help scoffing at Ethan; some way to repay a favor.  
  
Lydia also discovered the source of their hallucinations—wolfsbane embedded into Coach’s whistle. It hadn’t been the motel or some random hauntings. It was the darach. Although the news relieved Isaac briefly before propelling him into a deeper level of dread, he found solace in the fact that they were leaving the horrid Glen Capri behind.  
  
It had been a long drive to get there, so by the time they got back to Beacon Hills, the school day was almost over. After the bus had stopped in the school parking lot and let the team get off, Isaac found Scott waiting for him.  
  
“Hey,” Isaac said.  
  
“Hey. Can you meet me in the locker room after you grab all your stuff?”  
  
Despite his confusion, Isaac said, “Sure,” and Scott scurried off without another word. Isaac had nothing to get, so he went straight for the locker room. It was empty, and with no practice after school, it would remain that way.  
  
Isaac sat on a bench as he waited. He could hardly imagine them doing anything sexual at this point, so he cycled through the possibilities in his head, the quiet simultaneously boosting his concentration and his anxiety.  
  
He didn’t have to wait long. Isaac stood when Scott appeared, trembling. He had nothing with him. He held his head low as he approached Isaac.  
  
“Scott?”  
  
The boy looked up at him and Isaac quietly gasped. Scott’s eyes were welling, and his arms were wrapped disjointedly around his stomach like he didn’t know what to do with them.  
  
“I think...” Scott began, “I think I’m ready for you to hold me now.”  
  
Isaac stepped towards him just as Scott practically collapsed into his arms. Isaac held him tightly as Scott began to sob in earnest. He didn’t say anything. He just let Scott do everything that he had been afraid to do for the past two days, release everything that he had been holding in for the sake of his friends.  
  
For as long as Scott cried, Isaac held him. Scott cried for a long time.


	15. Scott learns more about Isaac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long Scott chapter. Ah hah!

Scott was surprised at how cathartic a good, long cry could be (or that he’d ever use another word of the day in a sentence).

He was grateful that Isaac always seemed to be prepared for the little things. After offering him a handful of tissues from his locker, Isaac sat with him as Scott blew his nose and dried off his face. Once Scott felt like he could breathe properly again, Isaac took his hand.

“Let’s go home, babe.”

Isaac offered to drive, another thing Scott was grateful for. He was grateful for Isaac for so many things at that moment, but he didn’t know how to show it. After putting on their helmets, Scott just got onto the motorcycle behind Isaac and held onto his waist as they drove off.

Once home, Isaac announced he needed a shower—badly.

“Did you want the shower first?” he asked Scott.

Scott shook his head. “That’s OK. You can go ahead.”

He made for the fridge as Isaac went upstairs. He pulled some sliced ham, cheese, and mayo with the intention of making himself a sandwich, but when he heard the water begin to run, it sounded inside his head like he was right there in the bathroom. As Scott listened to the stream striking the bathtub, he imagined the water dripping down Isaac’s body, and he realized two things: one, they had the house to themselves and, two, they were out of bread.

Who needs bread?

Scott stuffed the ingredients back into the fridge before bolting for the stairwell and hopping up the stairs. He pulled off his shirt as he entered his room and tossed it on the floor before entering the bathroom. The air was already humid and thick with the scent of his body wash; Isaac never used his own shampoo or anything, just Scott’s. Scott had realized this a while ago, but it had never really turned him on like it did at that moment.

As he approached the shower, Scott felt an odd sense of familiarity—déjà vu, did they call it? It gave him pause, but he pressed forward—this time, it felt right.

Scott drew the curtain slightly to find Isaac rinsing off, his back to the shower head. The view of his backside—a view Scott never truly appreciated until now—made him realize he was an ass man.

Hell, who was he kidding? He was an _Isaac_ man.

Isaac turned around and looked at Scott. He seemed completely unsurprised to see him.

“Hi,” he said cheekily.

“Are you busy?”

“Maybe.”

“OK. I’ll come back later.”

When Scott closed the curtain, Isaac burst out laughing. “Scott, get in here!”

Grinning, Scott undid his jeans and left them on the tile floor as Isaac opened the curtain for him. As Scott stepped under the stream of water, Isaac pulled his loofah and body wash.

“Here, let me take care of you,” Isaac said.

After building enough lather, he moved Scott from under the shower and started to sponge him, beginning at his shoulders, then working down his arms. Then he prompted Scott to turn around and started on his back, gradually working his way down until he got to Scott’s feet.

Isaac worked slowly and seemed to be keeping a polite distance—as polite as he could, anyway, given that they were both naked in the shower together. Once Isaac knelt down to reach Scott’s ankles, however, he started to touch him without the loofah. Scott felt him rubbing, gently, the lather into his skin, and worked in circles while traveling up his leg. Isaac soaped his calf, then his thigh, then stopped just short of his crotch before moving on to his other leg. Isaac repeated these delicate movements until he’d massaged his way up Scott’s leg—the calf, the thigh—all the way up until—

Scott let out a quiet gasp as he felt Isaac’s hand meet the area between his legs. What had Isaac called it—the perineum? He felt Isaac slide his hand up slowly between his cheeks before clutching them not so politely. Scott smiled; he knew Isaac couldn’t help himself.

“God, Scott, you’re so beautiful.”

Isaac stood and closed the gap between them, drawing his arms tightly around Scott. When Scott felt Isaac’s erection behind him, it sent a jolt through his body and forced another moan from his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Isaac whispered into his ear. “I can’t—you just… I just can’t control myself with you sometimes.” He began to kiss his shoulder. “I want you so bad right now.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Scott uttered, then turned around to kiss him head on. He wound up shoving Isaac against the wall, but when their lips met, he felt the curve of Isaac’s lips.

He grasped Isaac’s face to hold him between his hands before parting to speak. “Don’t be sorry,” he repeated, “because this is the only thing that makes sense to me right now.” Scott caressed Isaac’s cheeks with his thumbs. _“You_ are the only thing that makes sense to me right now.”

Scott leaned in again to kiss him, to taste his lips, to spar with his tongue. He felt Isaac’s hands travel down his chest, down his abs, until one hand wrapped itself around his burgeoning erection while the other cupped his ass. Isaac made a guttural noise.

“I wanna make love to you,” Isaac uttered between kisses.

“Fuck yeah,” Scott sighed.

Scott turned off the shower and they barely toweled off before tumbling into bed. Scott wound up on top as they fought to keep their lips together—as they tangled and untangled their arms and legs together. Everywhere their bodies touched, their skin made contact, a renewed surge of pleasure flowed through Scott.

It was different being on top. Scott kinda liked it.

Isaac pushed him up slightly, a sly grin nudging his cheeks. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna try something?”

“Like what?”

“You wanna ride me?” Isaac’s eyes flashed golden brown.

“You mean, stay on top?”

“Yeah. Know what I’m talking about?”

“I think so.” Scott had never done anything like that before, but it sounded hot.

Isaac prompted him to bring his legs up so that Scott was in a sort of squatting position. As Isaac reached for the bottle of lube beside the bed (a lesson they had learned quickly—always have lube readily available), Scott rubbed his hands over Isaac’s chest.

“You’re pretty beautiful too, you know that?” Scott said, and they grinned at each other.

It was true. Isaac’s taut, lithe form was perfectly muscular in all the right places (and Scott was feeling proud of being able to use more words of the day correctly). Isaac was strong, and he radiated strength not just in the places that were firm, but in the places that were soft, too, like the skin just around his nipples, or the flesh below his bellybutton.

Scott enjoyed watching Isaac’s arms flex and relax as he supported him, as he coated his fingers with lube and rubbed his fingertips together. He brought his hand under Scott and felt his fingertip rub his entrance teasingly. Isaac circled the sensitive area several times, making Scott sigh with anticipation, before Isaac began to press inwards.

He let out a long moan as Isaac slid his finger inside him. Scott was feeling good—he was feeling loose—so he grasped Isaac’s erection and began to stroke him to coax him along. Isaac worked in another finger, which made Scott toss his head back and let out another grunt of pleasure.

Isaac was watching him the whole time. It was different seeing him like this, below him instead of above. It thrilled Scott and made his cock leak even more.

“Your precome’s really leaking out,” Isaac remarked. “You ready for me, babe?”

“I’m ready.”

“You want it?”

Scott growled; he couldn’t help himself. “I want it.”

“Guide me in.”

Isaac held the bottle of lube open for Scott, who opened his palm and accepted a gob of the stuff before wrapping his hand around Isaac’s dick again. Already mostly erect, it only needed a little push.

“God, you get me so hard, Scott.”

Scott shifted himself until he was above Isaac’s cock and squeezed it as he brought it towards his entrance. Scott pressed firmly, but he wasn’t used to being the one doing the pushing. The first push tended to hurt, and despite himself, Scott was a little afraid.

“You can do it, babe,” Isaac cooed. “Let me inside you. I wanna be inside you so bad.”

Clutching Isaac’s dick, Scott used gravity to his advantage and simply sat. He cried out as the sensation of Isaac filling him up came more sharply than he’d anticipated, but Isaac was before him the very next second, holding him.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Isaac whispered, caressing him. “You’re doing it, Scott! You’re doing it—oh my God, you feel so fucking good.”

Scott felt himself relaxing quickly, and the pain subsided in a few short moments. He found himself laughing briefly. “What do I do now?”

“Whatever you want,” Isaac breathed. “You’re in control, babe.”

When Isaac laid back, Scott gazed at him. Isaac brought his hands under him to help support Scott’s position. With his arms in front of him and hands on the bed, Scott slowly raised and lowered himself.

“Oh, fuck!” Scott cried out, repeating the motion and bringing his hands to rest on Isaac’s stomach. The sensation surging through him was incredible.

“Yeah, babe, that’s it!” Isaac sighed, caressing Scott’s legs. “Ride my cock. Oh God, yeah.”

As Scott worked out a rhythm to his bobbing, he couldn’t believe the intense chills of pleasure running across his muscles. The fact that he was doing all the work, the fact that he was raising and lowering himself at his own pace—that he was working to balance himself on Isaac’s throbbing cock—all seemed to culminate in an eroticism that Scott never dreamed possible until now.

“Oh, fuck,” Scott grunted, “this is like I’m fucking myself, isn’t it?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“You like watching me fuck myself?”

“Fuck yeah!”

Scott paused to bring his arms behind him. As he lay back slightly, the shift in the angle quadrupled the pleasure exploding through his body.

“Oh my—fuck!” Scott cried out.

“Yeah, that’s it—that’s it, Scott. Oh my God, you’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t—I can’t believe it… I can’t take it sometimes—oh God… You feel so fucking amazing.”

Scott loved hearing Isaac talk like this. “You like my ass, Isaac?”

“I fucking love your ass.”

“You like my body?”

“I fucking love your body.”

“You like when I suck you off? When I swallow your load?”

“Oh, fuck yes—all of it!”

“You like when I take your big, thick cock?”

“Fuck yes!”

Scott growled. “Oh, fuck, I love making you feel good. I love giving it to you. I love you so much, Isaac.”

“I love you, too.”

He felt Isaac grasp his erection. Scott knew he must be close—Isaac always started stroking Scott when he was close.

“You wanna see me come, boo?” Scott grunted.

“Yeah—fuck yeah, babe.”

Isaac spit into his hand and squeezed Scott’s cock hard as Scott bobbed up and down. Isaac barely had to stroke him with the motion, but Scott never lasted long with Isaac gripping his manhood, anyway.

“Oh, fuck, Isaac… Oh, fuck—I’m gonna come! I’m gonna—”

Scott felt the come burst through his dick before the full intensity of the orgasm hit him. He tried his best, but the force of it shattered his coordination and forced his eyes shut as he dropped into Isaac’s lap, moaning and crying out as the orgasm spread through his body.

Isaac was crying out, too, and Scott felt his cock pulsing inside of him. They made incoherent noises of pleasure together—sighing, moaning, and groaning practically in unison—until their orgasms gradually subsided, leaving their muscles spent and their testicles empty.

For a moment, Scott kept his eyes closed and simply sat to catch his breath, Isaac’s cock softening inside him. When Isaac let go of him, Scott opened his eyes.

“Holy shit!”

Come was dripping down Isaac’s face and chin, and some of it was pooling just below his neck. Isaac was grinning, though.

“That was quite the facial,” Isaac remarked.

Scott laughed. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to do that! I’m sorry!”

Isaac laughed, too. “Are you kidding me? That was _hot_.”

Scott leaned forward to make sure the come didn’t get into his eyes, but Isaac pulled him in for a kiss instead. Scott felt a little weird for kissing him while there was come all over his face, but Isaac didn’t seem to care. The kiss was tender and full of tongue, so Scott made sure Isaac’s tongue wasn’t lonely.

When they parted, Scott moved off of Isaac—grunting with the effort, as his legs were surprisingly tired—and grabbed a towel to clean off Isaac’s face. Then, after nestling beside him, Scott just wanted to relax and to feel Isaac next to him. Moments like this—after he and Isaac had just had mind-blowingly awesome sex—where everything just felt soft and warm and perfect, and the room smelled like happiness—were the best. He loved it when the room smelled like, well, love.

As Isaac brought his arm around Scott, Scott lay his arm across Isaac’s chest and let their cheeks rest against each other. They held each other and simply breathed each other in.

Scott was feeling much, much better. Isaac, however, seemed a little off. The scent he was giving off was more complex than his usual post-coital sweet smell. Isaac had a lot on his mind—and he had every right to.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

Isaac nudged himself away just far enough so he could look at Scott. “No, of course not.”

“It’s OK,” Scott insisted. “I’d be mad at you, too, if you tried to leave me like that.”

Isaac sighed. “You weren’t yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. It’s still OK to be mad at me. It’s OK to have—emotions.”

Isaac laughed gently. “Are you saying I don’t have emotions?”

“No, I just mean…” Scott started to caress the side of Isaac’s face. “I remember everything you said to me when we first became boyfriends. What you said about—losing me. And I’m sorry—sorry for almost—not holding up my end of the bargain.”

As Isaac’s eyes started to glisten, he looked away. Scott went on, “I realized something, too. It hit me, when I saw you—right after the explosion. I realized what was happening to me had happened to you too, and I, I—have to tell you, I almost started bawling right then because—because I could’ve lost you, too.”

“Oh, Scott, it wasn’t—”

Scott gently prompted Isaac to look at him. “I know it’s selfish, but I have to do it—I have to ask you: promise that you’ll never leave me; promise, because—I _can’t_ lose you, Isaac. You’ve become _so_ much to me that—I need you. I wish I could tell you how much I really love you. Heck, I don’t think even words are enough. But please, promise me that you won’t leave.”

A tear fell from the side of Isaac’s eye onto the pillow. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with a smile.

_“Promise_ me.”

“I promise.”

Scott brought Isaac in for another kiss. He caressed Isaac’s lips slowly, wanting to make it last. He wanted Isaac to know that he meant it, all of it, with every fiber of his being. Isaac was so selfless, so amazingly considerate, that sometimes Scott had trouble feeling worthy of Isaac’s love.

When they parted, Isaac said, “I love you, too.”

They took another moment to be lazy together and to enjoy each other in the warmth of their bed.

“What do you remember of last night?” Isaac asked. “I mean, of the craziness.”

“Not much. Just that it was like a dream—a dream you can’t remember, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“I remember my mom, and Stiles, getting hurt. Well, being killed, really, and Derek—Derek setting himself on fire.”

“That’s what you saw?”

“Yeah. What did you see?”

“Just—my father. Nothing I hadn’t seen before.”

“What about Boyd?”

“I didn’t ask Boyd. If he remembered anything, I mean. I didn’t want to pry.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember running into me at all? In the walkway outside the motel?”

Scott sat up. “No—what did I do? Did I say something mean to you?” Scott started to panic.

“No, no,” Isaac said, reaching to reassure him. “You didn’t do anything. You were just—acting weird.” Isaac bit his lip, and Scott could smell a burst of chalky shame emanate from him.

“I did see Allison, though,” Isaac went on. “I kind of—blamed her for your behavior. I wasn’t very nice to her.”

Scott exhaled. “Well, you weren’t yourself, either. She wouldn’t hold it against you. I don’t.”

Isaac looked towards the ceiling. “Maybe. She brought up a good point, though—what are we going to do about the darach?”

Scott couldn’t immediately discern the connection, but he had a vague sense of how an argument between Isaac and Allison might’ve gone.

“We—we find a pattern,” Scott replied. “We try to figure out what might happen next—and get ahead of it. Hopefully, we can stop the next sacrifice.”

Isaac took a deep breath. “I need to become a better wolf,” he said, and Scott found the statement almost random, too, but not really. “I need to train.”

Scott took his hand and squeezed. He understood. “We’ll train together. We’ll become better wolves—together.”

Isaac looked back at Scott and smiled. After a moment, Scott said, “You know, I can’t help but think there’s a reason I didn’t see you, that I don’t remember running into you.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I just remember, when I saw my mom, and Stiles, it was over so quickly. Almost like, you know, how you’re supposed to wake up from a nightmare. Maybe if I’d seen you, it would’ve been too strong for the—spell, or whatever. I probably would’ve snapped myself out of it.”

Isaac gave him a gentle smile, but his happiness was laced with a subtle whiff of sad. Scott was about to ask, but when he saw saw how close it was getting to dinnertime, they hopped out of bed and showered for real, Isaac rinsing off and Scott doing a more thorough cleanse. Once he felt sufficiently refreshed, he got out of the shower and began to towel himself dry.

When he had the towel around his waist and had started working on his hair, Scott was caught off guard by a bitter, salty scent—tears. Yet, it wasn’t a completely musty sad smell—it was bittersweet.

Scott reentered the room to find Isaac standing before one of his dressers with the sock drawer open, his back to him.

“Isaac?”

As Isaac sniffled sharply, Scott could see him frantically trying to wipe his face. He approached Isaac quickly. “Are you OK?”

Isaac was trying not to look at him as he wiped his eyes and sniffled. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Really.”

Scott grasped him gently by the shoulder. “Isaac—it’s OK! You can tell me! What’s wrong?”

“It’s—it’s really stupid,” Isaac said, his voice breaking.

Scott took him by the arms and made him look at him. “Isaac—did you forget how long I was blubbering like a baby earlier? You don’t need to be embarrassed—whatever it is! _Nothing_ that makes you cry could ever be stupid.”

That only seemed to make Isaac cry harder, so Scott hugged him. Finally, Isaac said, “Your mom folded my socks. She put all my clothes in with yours.”

“Did she—mess up your system?”

Isaac pulled away, laughing. “No, no.”

“I’ll ask my mom to make sure she puts everything the way you want it.”

“No, it’s not that!” Isaac said. “I was just—looking for my spoons, and when I saw the bag I left here was empty, I panicked, and when I looked in the drawer, I just…” Isaac sniffled, letting another laugh-cry-sob escape him.

“I haven’t had anyone fold my clothes for me in a really long time. Do my laundry, even.”

Scott nearly uttered an “oh,” but he caught himself, barely. He smiled at Isaac as everything suddenly became crystal clear. Bittersweet, indeed.

“Well, your clothes are where they belong. _You_ are where you belong. Here. With me.”

Scott took a moment to treasure the look Isaac gave him just before Isaac launched himself at him for another hug. “Thank you,” Isaac said. He was giving Scott one of the biggest bear hugs he’d ever gotten.

Scott hugged him back just as tightly. “Don’t mention it.”

“I promise I won’t cry about these things anymore.”

Scott smiled to himself. “It’s OK. You can cry as much as you want. Quota doesn’t start until next month.”

When they parted, Scott said, “Dude, why do you have spoons in your gym bag?”

Isaac burst out laughing.

***

Scott and Isaac went to see Derek, but it seemed Stiles and Boyd had beaten them to it. Scott heard their voices arguing as he and Isaac approached the loft, the huge sliding door already open.

“So _when_ exactly were you planning on filling us in?” Stiles was saying.

“I wasn’t,” was Derek’s reply.

When Scott and Isaac entered the apartment, Derek only seemed mildly annoyed to see them.

“I was planning on using my false death to my advantage,” Derek went on.

“Yeah, well, about that,” Stiles began.

“They know you’re still alive,” Boyd interrupted.

“Yeah, and Kali’s coming for you,” Stiles finished.

Derek sighed, then turned to Scott and Isaac. “You here to fill me in on what I already know?”

“We were—just checking to make sure you were all right,” Scott replied.

Isaac approached Derek. “Not me,” he said. “I came to do just a little more than that.”

Before Derek could stop him, Isaac had his arms around Derek in a hearty embrace. Derek, like Stiles and Boyd, seemed utterly surprised by the gesture.

Not Scott, though, who couldn’t help smiling. He knew Isaac was just a big softie at heart.

Isaac parted from Derek before he could hug him back and said, “I figure that should offset—”

Isaac swung his arm and socked Derek square in the face, knocking him to the ground.

“—this.”

“Isaac!” Boyd called.

Scott was speechless; OK, maybe not always such a big softie. Derek rubbed his face as Isaac shook out his hand.

“Don’t you _ever_ do anything so stupid like that again, you hear me?” Isaac shouted. “Next time, have a plan—a _real_ plan.” He pointed to Boyd. “Boyd and I will come up with something to help you deal with Kali—understood?”

Isaac was trembling ever so slightly, but he’d kept his voice steady. Scott could only imagine what it must be like for Isaac to stand up to his alpha like this, and he couldn’t help the immense pride he felt for Isaac at that moment—even if his actions were a little misguided.

Derek said nothing, which seemed to be the closest that Isaac would get for an agreement.

“What about me?” Stiles said.

Isaac looked to Scott. “You’ve got a bigger puzzle to handle,” Scott said.

Holding out his hand, Isaac offered to help Derek up, who accepted it with barely a grunt of disapproval.

“Well,” Stiles interjected, “you guys are just in time for the 'surprise! I'm not dead' luncheon that Derek was about to throw.” Derek shot Stiles an angry glare. “You hungry?”

Isaac looked at Scott again. “I can’t really stay,” Isaac said. “I have a couple things I need to take care of this weekend.”

When Boyd and Stiles exchanged knowing smiles, Scott couldn’t help blushing. As Isaac left, Boyd and Stiles went to explore whatever food Derek had in the fridge, leaving Scott alone with Derek.

Scott put his hands in his pockets, not sure why he was lingering, or why Derek was, either. Derek was inscrutable.

“I guess I should—go ahead and meet Isaac outside.”

“Are you OK?” Derek blurted. It came out like an accusation, but Scott knew better.

“Yeah, I’m OK.”

“Isaac seems to be a lot stronger these days.”

Derek remained stoic, so Scott suppressed a smile. “He is.”

“Take care of him,” Derek said, and started to make for the kitchen.

“Of course.”

“Oh, and, Scott,” Derek said, coming to a stop. He looked at Scott over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“It’s not your fault.”

Scott was speechless. Even after Derek left the room, Scott had to take a moment to soak in what just happened. It was the closest thing to an—apology? show of sympathy?— _whatever_ that he’d ever gotten from Derek.

He left the loft and slid the door shut behind him before meeting Isaac outside the building.

“Are you mad at me?” Isaac said by way of a greeting. He was leaning against the building.

Scott gave him a half smile. “I don’t really think you had to hit him, but I think he got the point.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking off in the distance. “I just—I mean, this was the _second_ time he’s almost gotten you killed! It’s just—” Isaac pressed his palms against the sides of his head and let out a frustrated groan.

“You don’t seriously blame Derek, do you?”

Isaac sighed deeply. “I don’t. I mean, I’m trying _really_ hard not to, you know? But, when it comes to you, I just get—irrational.”

Scott approached him and kissed him on the cheek. Isaac smiled at him. “I understand,” Scott reassured. “I kinda wanna punch Derek too, sometimes.”

Isaac laughed. “What do you wanna do now?”

“Well, what did you need to take care of, exactly? Can I help?”

Isaac hesitated. “I... I don’t think what I have to do will be very fun for you.”

Scott smiled. “That depends—will you be there?”

“Mostly.”

Laughing, Scott said, “As long as you’re there, I'll have fun.”

Isaac grinned. “I can’t get over how sweet you are sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

They laughed. After a moment, Isaac said, “I have to take care of my house.”

Scott groaned. “Aww, babe, _chores?_ You wanna do _chores_ this weekend?”

Isaac shook his head. “No, I mean, _my_ house. My old house.”

“Oh.” Scott had misheard. Stiles had mentioned that Isaac was in possession of his old house since his father was killed. “Well, let’s go, then!”

Isaac held onto him as Scott started to move. “Are, are you sure? It won’t take me long, probably an hour or two. I can meet you back at home.”

Scott smiled. “Well, with me there, too, it should only take us thirty minutes.” He prompted Isaac along. “Come on, let’s go!”

As they hopped on his motorcycle, Scott could sense how tense Isaac was behind him as they rode out towards Isaac’s house. He knew Isaac wanted to do this by himself, but Isaac already did too many of the chores around the house as it was. Scott wasn’t going to let him take care of a whole other house by himself—one that he wasn’t even staying at!

They reached Isaac’s house not too long after leaving Derek’s loft. From the outside, only the lawn looked like it really needed any attention. The driveway was empty, so Scott pulled in and stopped just before the garage. As Isaac hopped off and made for the garage door, Scott asked, “When was the last time you were here?”

“Not in a while,” Isaac answered, reaching under the right corner of the garage door. Scott noticed it was slightly crooked just before Isaac pulled a key from under it. He stood and said, “Shall we?”

Scott followed him as Isaac keyed into the lock and opened the door. When they entered, something loud started to beep.

“What’s that?” Scott asked, but Isaac was already walking across the living room. Scott wondered how it could be colder inside than it was outside.

“Hang on.”

After some additional beeping, like buttons being pushed, the warning beeps stopped. Scott crossed the living room, eyeing its neat bareness, before meeting Isaac in the kitchen. The table and counters clear, the kitchen was similarly bare.

“Are you—renting this place out or anything?”

Isaac had the fridge open. “No. I’d be a terrible landlord.”

“You could still get someone to do that stuff for you. Who’s paying for all this?”

“My dad, the bank; I’m not really sure.” He turned to Scott. “Do you want anything? All I’ve got is—water. Stuff that doesn’t expire.”

Scott shook his head. “I’m OK. What do you need to do?”

After shutting the fridge, Isaac looked around. “Not too much. Just cleaning and dusting everything off. Checking for mold growth, things like that.”

Scott was itching to look around, but that seemed really intrusive, especially since Isaac had been less than eager to have him come along. Still, he and Isaac hadn’t really talked about his past, and Scott felt it was something that they’d have to discuss sooner or later.

He loved Isaac, truly. It was just that, sometimes, he wasn’t sure if he really knew him.

“What would you like me to do?” Scott asked, smiling.

“Uh, how about you dust and vacuum down here, and I’ll do upstairs? There’s a vacuum in the closet right across from the front door.”

“OK. What about the lawn? You want me to cut the grass?”

Isaac laughed softly. “If you really want to, sure.”

So they got to it, with Isaac heading upstairs and Scott grabbing a duster and a vacuum for the main floor. As Scott dusted, he found that there really wasn’t much that had accumulated on the furniture and surfaces, so he took to vacuuming the floors and carpet before making for the garage. He found the lawnmower and was pleasantly surprised to have it come alive on the first try; he was fully prepared to get gas for it.

Scott was halfway through mowing the lawn when Isaac came outside.

“Scott?”

He shut off the lawnmower. “Yeah?”

“Can you do something for me?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Isaac cleared his throat. He was gazing down the street. “Can you go through my dad’s room and—clear it out?”

“Sure.”

“I mean, don’t—you don’t have to go through his stuff or anything. I’ve been keeping my nose on it for anything rotting or spoiling in there, but there hasn’t been. It’s just that there’s a bunch of trash and messiness on the floor that I haven’t been able to get to—I haven’t been able to force myself to go in there.”

Isaac had spoken so quickly that Scott wasn't sure if he had heard him. “Sure,” Scott repeated.

Isaac forced a laugh. “Sorry, I don’t mean to—you know.”

“It’s no problem, Isaac.”

“I left a box of trash bags outside the door. Just use your best judgement with what to throw out.”

Isaac lingered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, I… I kinda used his room as a—dumping ground for stuff I just, I just didn’t want to deal with.”

Scott nodded. “What if I find something? Do you—”

“No,” Isaac interrupted. “Not today.”

Scott walked up to Isaac and closed the gap between them. Isaac had been tense since they arrived, but Scott couldn’t get a read on his emotions. Either Isaac was feeling so many things at once that it was all just white noise to Scott, or Isaac was getting better at suppressing his feelings. He took Isaac’s arms.

“Are you sure, babe?”

“There’s not gonna be anything that important up there,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “Just junk. I just—can’t go in there.” He exhaled quickly, standing up straighter. “I’ll finish mowing.”

Scott said OK and went upstairs. He found the garbage bags beside the master bedroom, the door ajar, just as Isaac had described. Right across had to be Isaac’s room—and the door was wide open. Scott caught a glimpse of two beds before looking away; Isaac must’ve left the door open because he trusted Scott, and so Scott tried not to invade his privacy anymore than he’d already done.

As he entered the master bedroom, Scott was startled by how messy the room was considering how impeccable the rest of the house was. Clothes—several shirts, sweaters, a jacket, wrinkled slacks—lay sprawled across the bed, smelling slightly musty. A pile of unopened mail sat in a heap beside the door, and there was barely any space to walk with empty beer bottles, more clothes—even plates and glasses—littering the room.

After spending a moment to take in the whole mess, Scott sighed. Isaac was right, though, at least; it didn’t smell bad.

With a trash bag in hand, he got to it, discovering empty pill bottles—which looked like prescriptions and they had names Scott couldn’t even begin to pronounce—among the spent beer bottles. He gathered everything that was obviously spent and grouped all the dishes and kitchenware on one of the dressers, figuring Isaac had a good reason for keeping them in the room as they had no traces of food on them. He tried to fold most of the clothes neatly on the bed and picked up all the loose papers in another pile by the closet. Scott couldn’t help skimming some of the papers, and they ranged from what looked like old paperwork from school to random charts and spreadsheets to unwrapped newspapers.

It was a slow process. Admittedly, Scott could have worked faster, but he felt as if he were on hallowed ground or something. When he stopped for a moment, Scott could hear the lawnmower running outside and pictured Isaac running it back and forth across the modest lawn. Then he realized that the closet would probably be a good place for the clothes on the bed.

He opened the door to find a surprisingly deep closet with racks on both sides of the door. Though the racks had space for more clothes, there were no hangers. He thought about putting the clothes on the floor—at least they’d be out of sight—since there was only a box on the floor.

A single box tucked away right behind the door.

Scott closed the door. He tried hard to fight it, but after a moment, an irresistible surge of curiosity forced Scott to reopen the door and kneel before the box. He had to examine the box more closely. Just _had_ to.

It looked just like a regular shipping box, but it was unsealed. Within it was another box, but this one had a lid like a shoebox. Scott couldn’t help it—he lifted the lid slowly, and there was just enough space around it to slide the lid back and have it sit up against the outer box.

The inner box was full of discs—CDs, or DVDs? Scott couldn’t tell—some books— _The Road, The Things They Carried, Slaughterhouse-Five_ were the ones he recognized _—_ a few smaller and unidentifiable boxes, and a beaded chain. Scott lifted the chain to reveal—a dog tag.

LAHEY CAMDEN glimmered across the top of the tag, first name below the last.

Scott dropped the tag back into the box before he could read the rest of the dog tag. Panicking, he replaced the lid and closed the outer box and shut the closet door quickly. It felt like he’d just touched fire, and a swell of heat surged through his body. He leaned against the door with his back to it and banged his head on the door. Good God, Isaac had no idea, did he?

As they finished cleaning the house, Scott was desperate to say something, but couldn’t. Isaac never asked.

***

They got home just before the sun was beginning to set. They found the family car in the driveway and Scott opened the front door to find his mom in the kitchen.

“Ah, there you boys are! I was just about to get dinner started.”

“Can we help?” Isaac asked.

Scott wasn’t surprised by Isaac’s eagerness. He was also grateful—and guilty—that his mom had gotten into a habit of not asking where they’d been whenever they were gone for a while. He wasn’t sure if Isaac wanted to her to know, and he probably wouldn’t have wanted to lie to her, either.

They made dinner—chicken, with some greens and bread, with ice cream for dessert—and his mom shooed them out of the kitchen so she could take care of the dishes.

“Mom, I can do them!” Scott insisted.

“Nope!”

He tried, but Isaac prompted him out of the kitchen. Even thought he’d helped Isaac, Scott still felt Isaac had done more than his fair share of chores for one Saturday.

Still, it had been a nice dinner. It had been totally ordinary—totally _normal_. With everything that had happened the past week, it seemed to Scott that it had been forever since he’d had even a moment of normalcy.

That night as they settled into bed, they cuddled for a while, not saying much of anything. He caught himself dozing off a few times, but Isaac seemed to be wide awake.

“You tired, babe?” he asked Isaac.

“Yeah.”

Scott nestled closer to him, but after a moment, he could sense tension in Isaac’s muscles. It wasn’t like him—Isaac was never so anxious when they were in bed like this.

When Isaac sniffled, Scott looked up to see him fighting back tears. Scott adjusted himself so that he could look at Isaac and be level with him across the pillows. He gently grasped Isaac’s face and prompted him to make eye contact.

“What’s wrong, boo?” Scott whispered.

Isaac blinked the tears away, not really looking at him. “Nothing,” he started, sniffling. “I just—I just wanted to thank you, Scott. For today. It meant a lot to me—more than you know. Thank you for being so persistent.”

“Isaac.” Scott wanted him to meet his eyes. “Isaac—look at me.” Isaac obeyed, taking a deep breath.

Scott began to caress Isaac’s chin as he gazed into those glimmering, crystal-blue eyes. “You don’t have to hide from me. You can tell me anything. You won’t scare me away. You can’t.”

Isaac took his hand. “I know. I’m—I’m trying. I really am. Force of, force of habit—you know?”

“It’s OK. You said you trust me, that you feel normal with me. I hope you feel like you can turn to me—for anything.”

“I do. I really do. I just—I mean, you know… There’s always something else going on, you know? Life or death, all that jazz.”

Scott sighed. “That’s true, but—it’s not even that. It doesn’t even have to be the big things, you know? Like—I know you feel embarrassed for people on TV!”

“Huh?”

“Whenever we watch Punk’d, you always cringe and feel embarrassed for the people getting pranked—it’s adorable!” Scott laughed. “I know you want to cover your eyes. It’s so sweet.”

Isaac laughed, too. “It’s stupid, I know.”

Scott squeezed Isaac’s hand. “No, it’s not. Like that, and the clothes, and the little things—don’t feel like you have to hide them from me. I want to share those moments with you!”

“I know, I know. It’s—I’ve spent so much of my life hiding, and being by myself. I’m trying to get used to—opening myself up again.” Isaac grinned. “What does my embarrassed smell smell like?”

Scott grinned back. “Like popcorn.”

Isaac laughed and rolled his eyes. “Ah, how apt. Theater for my humiliation, eh?”

Scott kissed him. “I’d watch you in any movie.”

Isaac made an interested noise. “Mmm, movie, huh?”

They laughed. “So,” Scott said after a moment, “I just have to ask—about your dad’s room—today.” Scott regretting bringing it up as Isaac began to tense again, but he had to press. “I take it that—you never went in there at all? Not to look for anything, even?”

Isaac shook his head against the pillow. “No. I really only went in there once to clear out anything that might spoil or smell—that was it. Everything in there, I couldn’t figure out a place for. I just wanted the rest of the house to be as clean as possible.”

“Well, I—”

“If you found something, I don’t wanna know. Not yet, at least. Not right now.”

“But, this could really be—”

“Please, Scott.”

Scott let out a deep breath. “OK.”

Isaac kissed him. “Spoon you?”

Scott shifted and assumed his usual position and Isaac wrapped his arms around him. Scott settled into Isaac’s warmth and let sleep take him. They had a lot of work to do, but not tonight. Scott was just grateful to share the same space with the person he loved—as imperfectly perfect as he might be.

 


	16. Isaac formulates a plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac and Boyd try to help Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the immense delay. I've reworked the ending to this story three different times and now I'm ready to proceed!

Isaac was gradually getting used to hearing the words, “I love you,” again. It had been years since he’d heard them, let alone utter them. It seemed like Scott’s mission had become to say it to Isaac every chance he got: in the mornings, when they first woke up; at night, right before they went to sleep; in the hallways between classes when they’d spot each other, where Scott would whisper it—and no matter how noisy it was, Isaac would always hear him above all the chatter.

And, it seemed, if they were apart for longer than twenty or thirty minutes, Scott would always greet Isaac with a hug—a full-body, five-year-reunion bear hug that tended to last as long as the time they’d been apart. Almost.

It was sweet, really, and it didn’t matter where they were. School, the locker room, or at home—Scott almost always used the opportunity to sneak in a quick “I love you” before parting. He didn’t seem to care who saw them or who was looking. When Scott was around, Isaac often felt like the only person in the room.

Isaac was touched by Scott’s burst of affection. It was also making him a little anxious. He didn’t want it to stop, so he didn’t ask Scott why he was being so doting, but Isaac had his theories. On one hand, Scott might have been trying to make up for what had happened at the Glen Capri, still. Or, he might be afraid something disastrous would happen, and he didn’t want to leave anything to chance—it was Beacon Hills, after all.

Isaac made a point to always say it back to him, but it quickly became clear Scott never said it to hear it back. One time, in the kitchen, Scott covered Isaac’s mouth, uttered a quick “I love you,” and then ran out of the room. Isaac shouted it back to him, only to have Scott spent the next twenty minutes hiding just so that he could give Isaac another bear hug the next time they saw each other.

He was so in love with Scott, and it made him ecstatic beyond belief to know that Scott loved him just as much. Isaac couldn’t deny, though, that a small part of him—a stubbornly growing part—was anxious. Anxious about what would happen next; anxious about letting Scott down, or being worthy of his love; of hurting him, somehow, despite all his efforts. Anxious to expose his flaws to him, even though he knew Scott could already see them—clear as day—and continued to love him anyway.

And he was anxious about approaching Allison’s father like this. Isaac had seen Scott do this before, and although it had actually worked, Scott had had a gun pointed at him. At least, this time, they were inside the grocery store.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Isaac remarked.

They’d followed Mr. Argent to the store, but had lost track of him once inside. Scott seemed to have this thing about following Allison’s dad instead of trying to meet him at their apartment. Perhaps to avoid Allison? Or running into Deucalion?

“We’ll be fine,” Scott said. “I’m sure of it.”

They were wandering down the pasta aisle. “We didn’t even grab a shopping cart.”

Scott grabbed a jar of marinara off the shelf. “Why? We only need a couple of things.”

“Wait, we’re actually getting stuff?”

A pair of hands grasped Isaac’s and Scott’s shoulders, making them jolt. “Well, then!” Mr. Argent exclaimed. “Funny running into you boys here—at this store—across town.”

It had been a circuitous route following Mr. Argent. It hadn’t occurred to Isaac that Allison’s father might’ve been trying to lose them—he seemed to be doing legitimate chores at each destination: dropping off mail, returning library books, getting gas—just to name their last few stops.

Scott was forcing a smile. “We can only get the sauce that Isaac really likes here?”

Isaac made a face. Pinning this on him? It was Scott’s idea!

Mr. Argent gave them a flat, toothless smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What can I do for you boys?”

When Scott seemed to falter, Isaac said, “We need help.” He paused as he was met with a skeptical stare. “We need—training.”

“Training.”

“We’re outgunned, here,” Scott interjected.

“Out-clawed is more like it,” Isaac uttered.

“And we need help,” Scott went on. “Please.”

Mr. Argent sighed. “What help do you expect me to provide, exactly?”

“That night,” Scott said, “when you helped us trap Boyd and Cora, that—you were badass. Really badass.” Scott only seemed to get the faintest hint of a smirk from the hunter. “Please, we’re not asking much. We—we just want to become better.”

“Better.”

“Yeah, better werewolves. Better fighters. Better everything.”

Isaac nodded solemnly in agreement. “I suck,” he blurted.

Scott tapped him on the arm. “No you don’t,” he mouthed silently.

Allison’s father was giving Isaac a strange, unreadable look. “You’re not planning another preemptive strike, are you?”

How much did he know?

Scott answered, “No, but we don’t have a choice anymore.”

“It’s Derek they want, isn’t it?” Mr. Argent asked, clearing his throat. He turned to Isaac. “He sent you away. Why still get involved?”

Isaac turned to Scott, who responded with only a look in return. Mr. Argent let out another deep sigh.

“Meet me tonight. Outside the preserve.” When he turned to walk away, he stopped just after a few steps. “And, boys—don’t follow me again.”

They watched him walk away. “Do you think we’re gonna regret this?” Isaac asked.

Scott nodded. “Probably.”

***

“Do you know why we use weapons? As hunters.”

Mr. Argent finished loading the last shell into the shotgun. As he waited for Isaac and Scott to answer, the hunter cocked it.

Isaac and Scott simply stood before Mr. Argent. “To make it a fair fight?” Isaac offered.

He saw the swerve of the barrel and leapt at Scott a split second before the gun went off.

“Are you insane?” Isaac cried out. He’d landed on top of Scott and was still doing his best to shield him.

“Relax,” Mr. Argent said, “they’re blanks. Do you see my point, though?”

“Isaac,” Scott groaned, and Isaac quickly moved off him. As he sat up, Scott said, “Guns don’t make it a fair fight.”

“And if you think we rely on just our weapons to keep us alive, you’d be mistaken. So if you think you can stand on strength or numbers alone against these alphas, you’re in for a short fight.”

So Allison’s father had not remained as aloof as it had seemed. “Are you telling us we’re basically doomed, then?” Isaac said.

Mr. Argent sighed. “In all honestly, yes—if you’re thinking of going after them again.”

Isaac chuckled. “He’s just like Derek.”

Scott didn’t laugh. “That’s not what we’re trying to do,” he said to the hunter.

“I sure hope so—because as advantaged as you might be, these alphas are more so, tenfold.”

Scott managed a small smile. “He is like Derek.”

“I take it that’s the lesson, isn’t it?” Isaac said. “We’re not going to beat them as wolves, are we?”

For the first time that night, Allison’s father smiled. “We use weapons not to kill, but to hunt. We use them as part of a much larger arsenal to keep us alive—and to tip the scales in our favor. There’s nothing I can teach you about werewolves that you don’t already know. If you need training, you should consider other uses for your time together as opposed to…”

When Mr. Argent trailed off and cleared his throat, Isaac and Scott couldn’t help grinning at each other. Isaac felt his cheeks burning.

“If you want to become better wolves,” Mr. Argent went on, “work together. Train each other. If you want to defeat these alphas—”

“We need to think like hunters,” Isaac interjected. “Tip the scales in our favor.”

Allison’s dad tilted the shotgun over his shoulder as if his work was finished. “Is that it?” Scott asked. “You asked us all the way out here just for that?”

“Not entirely. You really think you can become better wolves by staying cooped up in a house all day? Cross country isn’t going to cut it. You need a place to let your abilities roam freely—safely.”

When Isaac and Scott continued to sit, Mr. Argent cocked the shotgun again. “I do have shells other than blanks if you need some motivation.”

Isaac and Scott sprang to their feet. “Nope, we’re good!” Scott exclaimed as they ran past Mr. Argent.

***

The night was young, so they decided to make a game out of it; a friendly competition, really. The first game they decided upon was to see who was fastest. Scott naturally cheated by getting a head start and, try as he did, Isaac could not catch up to him. He chased Scott for what felt like miles across the rugged terrain. The cocky little shit was giggling and throwing back taunts the whole time.

“What’s wrong, boo? Don’t you wanna catch me?”

“You’re such a cheater!” Isaac shouted back.

“Says the tall blonde with long legs and wider strides!”

Isaac was getting tired, although Scott showed no signs of tiring, so Isaac decided to feign an injury by crying out and pretending to trip. Scott was predictably by his side in an instant.

“Are you all right?”

Isaac answered him by leaping on top of him and going right for the weak spots around his stomach and under his arms. As Isaac tickled him, Scott squealed uncontrollably with laughter.

“You win!” Scott cried out. “You win! Oh God, you win!”

Although he relished the sound of Scott’s laughter, Isaac relented. The next game they decided upon was a different variation on catching each other. Scott dared Isaac to try his best and hit him. When Isaac refused, insisting that he could never hit Scott, Scott talked him down to simply grabbing him.

Isaac at first went straight for him. Scott handled him easily, turning Isaac’s momentum against him and tossing him to the ground. He gave Isaac a sly smirk—and Isaac knew he wasn’t going to make it _that_ easy. Isaac jumped to his feet and rebounded towards Scott, this time feigning a direct attack before going for a low, indirect attack.

Scott was quicker, still, and jumped high in the air before landing behind Isaac and tripping him with a swift spin of his legs. When Isaac found himself on the ground again, he laughed.

“Something tells me you’re much better at this than I am.”

Scott offered him his hand and helped him to his feet. “I’ve just had a little bit more practice, that’s all.”

“What am I doing wrong here, exactly?”

“Well, you’re fast—don’t doubt that. It’s just that—you telegraph your moves.”

“Telegraph?”

“Yeah. It’s something Allison taught me once. Your body unconsciously reacts to a decision to do something even before you make it. We all do it. Since I’ve learned about it, I’ve managed to see it more, and do it less.”

“How do you see these things?”

Scott thought for a moment. “Let’s try this: I’m either going to try to trip you again, or grab your shoulder. See if you can tell in time to react.”

Isaac kept his gaze locked on Scott’s eyes. He spotted the quick glance towards his legs and that was all that Isaac needed to jump back in time to dodge Scott’s kick.

“Good!” Scott exclaimed. “You’ve got the speed already. How did you tell?”

Isaac tried not to smile. “Your eyes.”

Scott did the smiling for them. “See? I tried really hard not to give myself away, but I can’t always control it. Let’s do it again.”

This time, it was the twitch in Scott’s knee that gave him away. Then it was the flutter in his finger just before he went for Isaac’s shoulder. Then there was no tell, but Isaac still managed to dodge by sheer luck.

“All right,” Scott said, “now that you know about this, why don’t you work on checking your telegraphing as we change things up a bit? Instead of trying to hit me or grab me—this time, why don’t you try to kiss me?”

Isaac grinned. “Going easy on me now, huh?”

Scott grinned back. “Believe me—I am _not_ gonna go easy on you. What have we said about delaying gratification?”

Isaac went straight for Scott, knowing he would easily dodge him, and continued towards the tree directly behind him. He ran up the bark, jumped off it towards another tree, then leapt off that one back towards Scott. The height and extra momentum didn’t give Scott as much time to react, but he still managed to get out of the way—just barely.

Isaac flipped himself over and leapt towards Scott again, aiming low—but this time, Isaac made sure to launch with a spin so that as Scott was in the air above him, he could catch Scott’s leg and throw off his landing. Isaac managed to grab Scott’s leg as they were both suspended and Isaac used their perpendicular momentums to land on his feet while Scott wound up on his back.

As he grinned down at Scott, Isaac offered his hand. “Does that count?”

Smirking, Scott took Isaac’s hand. Isaac helped him up—and straight into a kiss. As their lips met, Isaac clutched Scott’s head to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. As he felt Scott resting against him, however, Isaac realized they were both worn out. Dirty, sweaty, and worn out.

Scott had never tasted sweeter.

They kissed for a long time, Scott’s lips congratulatory and coaxing and wet against Isaac’s. Isaac was just starved for the contact.

“I love you,” Scott whispered just as they parted. Damn it, Scott beat him to it yet again.

“I love you, too.”

They held each other for a moment, partly to catch their breaths, partly because Isaac just wanted to hold Scott. “Do you think we can really do this?” he asked Scott.

“We have to try.”

Isaac was surprised by the answer. It wasn’t so much what he said, but how he said it. He knew Scott wanted to reassure him, but he knew Scott wouldn’t lie to him either. Scott knew the odds were against them, but he also knew what was right, and so they had to try. That’s just who Scott was.

That was why Isaac loved him so much. And why he would do anything for Scott.

***

Training in the woods near the preserve quickly became a new ritual for Isaac and Scott. Typically, they would train right after cross country practice, but if Scott’s mom wasn’t home, they’d usually push their training to later in the evening to make use of the dark.

Isaac was growing more confident in his abilities. He found sparring with Scott to be fun and—unexpectedly exhilarating. Scott had promised Isaac that he would not go easy on him, and he kept his word: he’d stumped Isaac again and again to the point of frustration—probably, Isaac thought, because he liked to show off—but it only made it more gratifying once Isaac began to one-up him. Whether it was landing a strike or performing a successful counterattack or simply catching Scott off-guard, Isaac’s reflexes were rapidly improving.

“You know,” Isaac remarked one day as he and Scott were walking back from the preserve, “I’ve said this before, but it’s worth saying again: you’re a pretty good teacher. Better than Derek.”

It’d been a particularly arduous session, so they both were caked in sweat and dirt. Scott said, smiling, “Hey, I learned from Derek, too. You’re totally right, though.”

They laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially since Isaac had been on edge the entire day. Ethan had tipped off Scott that Kali was coming for Derek in less than a day, so instead of going home with Scott—who wanted to meet his mom at the hospital since she had to pull a double because of some ten-car pileup—Isaac split off to meet Boyd.

Boyd lived a few houses down from where Matt used to live. As Isaac passed Matt's house, he spotted Matt's father getting into his car. With his jacket slung over his shoulder, slacks noticeably wrinkled, and hair particularly unkempt, he looked moderately disheveled, like he hadn’t been sleeping well for a while. He made eye contact with Isaac briefly but didn't acknowledge him otherwise. Isaac kept walking, quickly. He didn't want to imagine what Matt’s parents had been going through since his death.

Isaac had texted ahead that he was on his way, so Boyd was out on the porch waiting for him.

“Wow,” Boyd said, “playing in the dirt again?”

“Something like that,” Isaac replied, offering a half smile. “Scott and I were just training near the preserve.”

“Training? What kind of training?”

“For a fight,” Isaac said, sitting in the empty chair beside Boyd.

“Yeah, we are running out of time, aren’t we?”

Isaac nodded. “Any ideas?”

Boyd shook his head. “Defense was never really my style.”

“Neither was Derek’s."

They sat in silence for a moment. “You feel confident enough to take on Kali or the twins?” Boyd asked. “Or all three of them?”

Isaac sat forward, sighing. “You know, Scott and I went to Allison's dad for help.”

Boyd looked surprised. “Really? How’d that go?”

“OK, I think. He said that, basically, we’d lose in a straight fight against them if we try going after them again.”

“Well, we've already taken one of them out.”

“And it almost got all of us killed,” Isaac snapped. “Look, we need a better plan this time. We need to tip the scales in our favor.”

Isaac let out a deep sigh. “We need to think like hunters.”

A calculating smile slowly nudged Boyd's cheeks. “I know what we need to do.”

***

The alpha pack’s symbol appeared on Derek’s loft the very next morning. Cora had texted Isaac after what had been a long night working with Boyd to get all the materials together—and keeping an eye on Scott’s mom; or, at least, trying to.

Isaac was still at Boyd’s when Scott had called to recount all the frantic happenings at Beacon Hills Memorial. Scott was panicking, and though Isaac tried his best to reassure him, Scott seemed convinced of the fact that his mom was the next one to be taken.

“They were both doctors, dude,” Scott had said over the phone, “and they’ve already found a body!”

“How do we know Ethan didn’t have anything to do with Danny?”

“Because Danny had been poisoned with mistletoe. Ethan brought him in to get help.”

Isaac didn't trust Ethan, but he hadn’t wanted to argue. “I’ll meet you home as soon as I can, all right?”

“Hurry, babe. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It had been an exhausting day, so it was a struggle for Isaac to stay awake at the foot of Mrs. McCall’s bed. Once it was Isaac's turn to take watch, Scott promptly fell asleep. The next thing he knew, Isaac awoke to the sound of Mrs. McCall’s stern voice—and he had to admit that he _may_ have been on watch last.

Scott had been adorable and pretended to give Isaac a hard time as they got ready for school.

“Did you get enough sleep, babe?” Scott had chided sweetly, mid hug. “I'm so glad you slept while the darach could’ve swooped in without you noticing!”

Isaac had burst out laughing. “You were asleep too, dummy!”

“Uh huh,” had been Scott's rebuke. It was hard to take him seriously when Scott was squeezing him so tightly, his face buried in Isaac's chest. Isaac knew he was just glad nothing had happened—to any of them.

Although Scott’s mom had hurried them off, Isaac did not go to school. He informed Scott of Boyd’s plan and, as Isaac expected, Scott seemed tense. He knew they didn’t have much time.

“Do you think it’ll really work?” Scott had asked him.

Isaac forced himself to nod. “I think so.”

Scott took his hand. “Be careful.”

After Scott sent him off with a kiss and another “I love you,” Isaac met Boyd at his house. Once they had everything they needed, Isaac called the school to notify the secretary that he and Boyd would be out sick before they headed over to Derek’s loft.

Isaac stopped just before the gigantic sliding door. “Think he'll be happy to see us?” he asked Boyd.

“Nope,” Boyd replied, adjusting the gym bag’s strap over his shoulder.

Snorting a laugh, Isaac slid the door open.

“Go back to school,” was Derek's unceremonious greeting.

“Well actually, we can’t,” Isaac said as they entered. They walked to meet Derek at the stair case. “Boyd and I are, uh—incredibly and unbelievably sick.”

“With what? Brain damage?” Derek shot.

“Well, I have a migraine," Isaac continued, unperturbed, “and, uh, Boyd here, uh, has explosive diarrhea.”

“We're here to protect you,” Boyd said, dropping his gym bag.

_“You’re_ here to protect me?” Derek scoffed, coming down the spiral steps. “Well—I’m in trouble, then.”

Isaac came to rest against Derek’s table. Given the books on it, Derek must’ve been doing some research. “Well actually, Boyd here—came up with a plan.”

“Yeah,” Boyd said, “I thought about the time Gerard had me and Erica locked up—tied up with electrical wires, pushing current through us. I was wondering how we could do something like that—” Pausing, he pulled the coil of industrial-grade electrical wire from his bag. “—but on a bigger scale.”

As Isaac helped Boyd attach a hose to the exposed faucet of a former bathtub inside the loft, Derek appeared inscrutable.

“What are you planning?”

Boyd turned on the faucet and took the hose towards the center of the loft as water started to flow from it. “In a pool of electrified water,” he elaborated, “it could take up to fifty milliamps to kill a normal human—less than the power it takes to turn on a light bulb.”

“That’s—comforting,” Derek remarked.

“If we disable the circuit interrupter in the building’s electrical room,” Boyd went on, “the current’ll keep coming. And anyone who steps foot in here…well, they’ll get a pretty shocking surprise.” A smirk began to shape his lips.

“Especially someone who’s barefoot,” Isaac added.

Derek stared at the stream of water trickling through the hose. “Let me get this straight—you two idiots want to flood my loft and surround us in a pool of death water?”

Isaac understood this implicit question: what could _possibly_ go wrong with such a complicated set up?

“We need to tip the scales in our favor,” Isaac said. “This could really work.”

Boyd eyed the alpha pack’s symbol on the windows. “Do you have a better idea? Kali’s coming for you. We don’t have a lotta time.”

“What’s your plan B?” Derek asked.

Isaac looked at Boyd. “Run?” Isaac offered.

“We take ‘em head on,” Boyd countered.

Derek shrugged in resignation. “Let’s hope this works, then.”

As they waited for the water to rise, they shifted furniture and wooden pallets to create makeshift platforms above the water. The water level rose slowly, so Derek went downstairs to shut off the power to the loft while Isaac and Boyd worked to connect the wires to the building’s circuitry. Once the water was high enough, Derek returned from the breaker room and joined Isaac and Boyd on the island they had created inside the loft.

Boyd stood by the breaker. “Ready?”

“Go for it,” Isaac said.

Boyd flipped the lever and power returned to the apartment. He flung the wires into the water and the splash was accompanied by a modest bolt of electricity. Most importantly, the power seemed to hold steady as the light above them stayed lit.

Isaac was expecting something bigger, though, from the wires’ entry into the water. Was there enough current for what they wanted to do?

“Is this gonna kill them?” he asked.

Boyd shook his head. “I hope so.”

They waited, sitting. At least, Isaac and Boyd did; Derek seemed to prefer standing. As the daylight turned crimson, Isaac felt his heart rate begin to rise. Some things just never changed, he thought, as the anticipation of an upcoming confrontation simply made his skin crawl. It was just ingrained in him, from all those years of waiting for his father to come home, to come downstairs, to wake up from his drunken stupor. Isaac thought his newfound wolf-hood would erase it. It didn't.

“Enough, both of you,” Derek blurted.

Isaac and Boyd looked at each other. “What?” Boyd asked.

“The fear is dripping off the both of you. It’s like I’m drowning in it.”

“Sorry,” Isaac uttered.

“Not exactly a good way to inspire confidence,” Derek went on.

“I think somebody’s projecting,” Boyd said.

“Maybe,” Derek admitted, taking a few steps to the side. It was the most pacing he’d done so far.

Dusk was gradually turning into night. Isaac stood to stretch, to take in the sight of all the water in the loft, before sitting back down. The way the light kept reflecting and changing throughout the loft, off the ripples of the water, was eerie. Yet, Isaac found it comforting.

“You two should go,” Derek said.

Isaac shook his head as Boyd replied, “We're not going anywhere.”

“You _do_ understand what they want from me, right? What they want me to do?”

Boyd looked to Isaac, who felt a surge of heat rush down his back. “We're not abandoning you,” Isaac said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you happy with Scott?” Derek pressed.

Isaac regarded him, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Are you happy with him?” Derek repeated.

Sighing, Isaac replied, “Yes.”

“Then why aren't you with him right now?”

“Derek, stop it,” Boyd cut in. “It didn't work with me, and it’s not going to work again. Just stop it. Let us help you.”

“I can’t protect you,” Derek snapped. “I can’t guarantee your safety. You don't owe me anything.”

Boyd stood. “We don't need you to. We never asked for that. And we owe you everything.” He turned to Isaac. “Right?”

Isaac shrugged. “I’m just here ‘cause you still owe me a cheeseburger.”

Derek turned away, but despite his attempt to hide it, Isaac could tell he was laughing.

Boyd was grinning as he sat back down. “You're such a dick. I don’t know how Scott puts up with you.”

Isaac laughed. “It’s ‘cause I put out.”

“Oh God,” Boyd uttered, while Derek burst out laughing.

As the last remnants of daylight faded away, the lamps above them became their only sources of light. Isaac worked to lower his heart rate and calm himself as they passed the time in silence.

And he just happened to notice the alarm box on the wall.

“Isn't—the light on that supposed to be on?”

Derek inhaled sharply. “Yeah.”

“What does it mean if it’s not?” Isaac asked.

“Someone cut the auxiliary power,” Derek answered.

“But,” Boyd began, “what about the main—”

The lights shut off. As darkness washed over them, Isaac and Boyd sprung to their feet, taking in the darkness surrounding them. Derek slowly stepped forward and hovered a foot above the water. Isaac held his breath—and Derek stepped into the water without incident.

As Derek trudged through the water towards the center of the loft—eyeing the alpha pack’s symbol on the windows—Isaac asked, “Derek—what do we do now?”

Derek’s eyes glowed red. “We fight.”

Isaac and Boyd assumed a fighting stance behind Derek as they waited. With nothing but the sound of rippling water around them, they waited. Finally, a clang at the entrance, followed by an unwinding of the lock, preceded the door’s quick slide open.

Derek shifted almost immediately as Kali stood, poised, for a moment to take in the sight of the three of them. Before entering, she bared her claws.

“I’m gonna be honest, Derek,” she said. “When Ennis died, I thought to myself: I’d just go for it—find you, kill you, _wherever_ you stood.

“Then I remembered! How you _surround_ yourself with these—teenagers.” Isaac felt heat rise within him as she sneered the word. “Hiding behind them. And I thought, ‘What's a girl gotta do to get you _alone?’”_

When she looked back towards the entrance, Ethan and Aiden came into view—clutching Ms. Blake between them and Ethan’s claws on her throat.

“You and me, Derek,” Kali went on. “Or they tear her apart. What do you say?”

Christ, Isaac thought, did this really have to happen? Derek and—their English teacher, for Pete’s sake?

“Think you can beat me one-on-one?”

Derek’s response came without hesitation and he signaled Isaac and Boyd to clear the arena. God damn it, Derek. Once they were back on the makeshift island, Isaac pulled his phone to text Scott just as Boyd did the same.

“Who are you telling?” Isaac asked.

“Cora,” Boyd answered.

Derek and Kali stood across the loft from each other, staring the other down.

“I'm gonna rip your throat out,” Derek sneered, “with my teeth.”

They roared at each other—their cries rumbling throughout the loft—as Derek made the first leap.

Isaac shook his head. As his bit his fingernails, he thought about what Scott had taught him, and couldn’t believe Derek was so obviously telegraphing his moves—every _single_ one. Isaac could see them, plain as day, and clearly—so could Kali.

“Come on, Derek,” Isaac uttered. “Stop being so predictable.”

Kali was swiftly dodging every one of Derek’s attacks. She was quick to gain the high ground and Derek was always too slow to get out of the way. It probably wasn’t helping that Ms. Blake was sobbing hysterically—not that Isaac could blame her.

“Derek!” she shrieked, just as Kali raked across Derek’s side with her claws. Kali then ran up a column while Derek ran after her—only to get kicked across the face.

Boyd uttered a frustrated groan. “This is ridiculous,” he sighed.

“Any word from Cora?” Isaac whispered.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, his hands trembling. “They’re coming.”

“They?”

“Cora, Stiles, and Lydia.”

“What about Scott?”

Boyd shook his head. “His boss was taken.”

“Deaton?”

“I think so. He's trying to save him, too.”

Isaac had texted Scott earlier in the day, but hadn’t realized he hadn’t heard back from him until now. Now, it all made sense.

Kali had assumed the high ground again on Derek’s table. As Derek got off the floor and lunged for her, she deftly sidestepped his attacks before kicking him away in another successful counterattack.

“We gotta do something,” Boyd said, his eyes glowing. Right then, Isaac caught a whiff of Boyd's fury and it nearly stifled him.

The fight was not going in Derek’s favor. Kali was continuing to one-up him, leaping off the table to kick Derek while he was still down.

“You go for Ms. Blake,” Boyd uttered, “and I’ll go for Kali. Just get her away from the twins.”

Isaac was closer to the twins, but he felt paralyzed. What if he wasn't quick enough?

“They’re coming, aren’t they?” Isaac blurted.

“Now!” Boyd sneered.

“Derek!” Ms. Blake screamed again.

Isaac stumbled towards the twins, but Derek barked, “No!” and the cry forced Isaac’s feet to stay.

Derek was still his alpha.

“Wait!” Isaac shouted back at Boyd, repeating their alpha’s order. It was a strange sensation, being compelled by his alpha. Isaac hadn’t felt it in a long time.

At least—not with Derek.

Something must have ignited within Derek as he came at Kali with renewed vigor. Finally, he was able to block her attack and, more than that, lock her in place. It was a brief victory, though, as Kali broke Derek’s grip and fell back—only to come at him again with a cartwheel kick. Derek dodged the attack, but when she landed, she immediately kicked him square in the gut and sent him tumbling back into the water.

Isaac felt the heat within him approach a boil. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. Kali grabbed Derek from the ground and spun him around to dig her claws deep into his neck.

Then the text came. Isaac pulled his vibrating phone from his pocket to see the message from Stiles.

_NOW._

Isaac bolted towards Ms. Blake. Aiden and Ethan let go of her and began to charge him. Isaac had her in his sights—

And he felt himself being flung across the loft. As he hit solid brick, the ringing in his ears forced him to register the loud bang that had thrown him across the loft—just before fire erupted across his entire body and everything turned white.


End file.
